John Lane
by RLobinske
Summary: An alternative universe history. Outcast artist, John Lane, meets an interesting new girl in his selfesteem class. Story is now complete
1. John

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the first John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**John**

A radio announcer said, "Good Morning Maryland. It's October fourteenth. Columbus Day observance for those lucky few who get the day off."

A slender young man with pitch-black hair and bright blue eyes sat on his bed and scratched his jaw just below the three silver rings in his left ear. Yawning, he pulled heavy, black boots on, tied the laces, and pulled the legs of worn, grey jeans down over them. He grabbed a red shirt, slipped his arms into the sleeves and rolled those up. The shirt front he left unbuttoned, revealing a plain, black v-neck t-shirt underneath.

"The temperature is currently fifty-six degrees. Expected high temperature is seventy-one."

After he was dressed, the fifteen-year old grabbed his backpack from beside his bed and slung one arm through the straps. He looked around his room: a bed with a large stereo over the headboard, a television on a small cart, a single easy chair. The room was dominated by a large, professional easel, and a drafting table in the corner. Assorted painted works and drawings adorned the walls and ceiling.

"Partially cloudy with no mention of rain in the forecast. In today's sports news…" The young man shut the radio off.

"Another exciting day in Lawndale," John Lane grimly muttered as he went out the door of his room and into the upstairs hall.

Walking past the adjacent bedroom door, he heard his older brother, Trent, snoring inside. John rolled his eyes and went downstairs to face the near-empty kitchen. He rummaged around in the pantry until he found a pack of ramen noodles. "Ah, breakfast," he said. "Too bad I have to eat it on the way." He removed a can of cola from the refrigerator and popped it open, pulled the top off the pack of noodles and took a bite.

Crunching noodles and chasing them with the soda, he was out the door and walking down Howard Drive toward Lawndale High School.

* * *

Near the front of the school, he saw an unfamiliar blue Lexus pull into the drop-off circle. At a small school like Lawndale, he was familiar with most of the students, even if he interacted with them as little as possible and they returned the favor.

Moments later, he raised his eyebrows when an intensely cute girl with flaming red hair stepped out from the front passenger seat of the new car. _She would make a nice subject to draw._

Within seconds, the girl was deep in conversation with that snotty freshman witch, Sandi Griffin, and her spineless lackey, Stacy Rowe. "Another victim of the Fickle Fingers of Fashion, he said as he also watched two boys approach her. "Oh, well." He shrugged and started back toward the front door, not noticing a second passenger emerge from the back seat.

* * *

Later that morning, he crawled into U. S. History class with his usual lack of enthusiasm and started to doodle in his ever-present sketchpad. After the bell rang and the students settled, he was brought back to reality when he heard the instructor, Mr. DeMartino, say, "Class, we have a new student joining us today. Please welcome Daria Morgendorffer. Daria, raise your hand, please."

At the front of the class, a small framed girl in green, with full, auburn hair, tentatively raised her hand. DeMartino said, "Well, Daria. As long as you have your hand raised…" and chuckled.

John grinned in anticipation. _Fun with the fresh meat. This could be entertaining. Let's see how long it takes this chick to collapse._

DeMartino continued, "Last week, we began a unit on westward expansion. Perhaps you feel it is unfair to be asked a question on your first day of class."

The girl's reply was simply, "Excuse me?"

"Daria, can you concisely and unemotionally sum up the doctrine of Manifest Destiny?"

_Oh, this ought to be good._

Without hesitation, the new girl answered, "Manifest Destiny was a slogan popular in the eighteen-forties. It was used by people who claimed it was God's will for the U. S. to expand all the way to the Pacific Ocean. These people didn't include many Mexicans."

_Whoa. You don't see that often._

DeMartino eyed the girl. "Very good, Daria. Almost…suspiciously good."

_That was entertaining._

* * *

John tossed the sketchpad into the air with a backspin, catching it in the same hand just as he opened the door marked, "Self-Esteem Class 3:30." He looked around at the array of new students. _Some of these have possibilities._ He grabbed a desk and sunk down into it. A few moments later, the girl who'd taken down DeMartino the day before entered and sat right in front. _What's she doing here?_

Within moments, she was trying to get clarifications on the teacher's drivel. After O'Neill sidestepped her question, John decided to lean forward and say, "He's an idiot who's memorized the crap. Just kick back and relax."

The girl turned and John saw her softly rounded face and brown eyes through her glasses. "How am I supposed to follow him if I don't know what he's talking about?" she asked.

"I've done the drill six times and can fill you in later."

* * *

Leaving class, John awkwardly extended his hand to the girl. "John Lane."

She calmly shook his hand. "Daria Morgendorffer."

He looked at his hand. _Such a soft touch._ He said, "I caught that in history. I sit a couple seats behind you."

"Oh. Mr. DeMartino seems to have taken a dislike to me."

"Don't worry; he hates everyone."

Daria faintly smiled.

John pointed forward. "We seem to be heading the same direction. Mind if I walk with you?"

"I can't stop you."

"Well, I'm sure those boots could."

"You said you could fill me in."

"Will that be a solid color or a pattern?"

Daria gave him a brief, quizzical look before saying, "Good one. I meant the class."

He handed her his notebook. "Oh, it's all here."

Warily, Daria said, "Okay," and accepted it. She rapidly read the details, as well as noting the interspersed sketches of students and numerous rude caricatures of Mr. O'Neill. After several blocks, Daria asked, "So, why haven't you passed to get out?"

John shrugged. "Gives me something to do in the afternoon, and it irritates Manson. When her eyes bug out, it looks like she's related to DeMartino."

Daria pointed to red brick house. "My stop."

"Nice place. See you tomorrow?"

"Um, yeah. Tomorrow."

After watching her go inside, John continued to walk toward his house.

* * *

Through the next day, John learned Daria was in his English, History and Economics classes, and had P.E. at the same time. John met up with Daria at her locker and headed with her to the Self-Esteem class. They walked past a boy leaning against a wall and talking to the cute redhead he remembered seeing on Monday "So... like, what do you like to do after school?" asked the boy.

She smiled innocently and replied, "Oh, nothing special. Go to the movies... or, like, a theme park... or out for a really fancy meal now and then... or maybe go to a concert, if, like, I know somebody's got good seats and is renting a limo and stuff."

John shook his head. "You hear that? He's about to go down in flames."

Daria briefly looked at the pair with a tired expression. "Tell me about it. That's my sister."

"That's got to suck."

The boy pressed on, "So, you've got any brothers or sisters?"

"I'm an only child," said the redhead.

Daria frowned and continued walking.

John looked between the two, clearly seeing the family resemblance. _And that has to hurt._

* * *

When he made it home, John found a rumpled wad of dollar bills on the kitchen table next to a note telling him to have pizza delivered for dinner. "Great, band practice or meeting tonight. I didn't want to sleep."

He grabbed the kitchen phone and punched in the number, counting the money as he waited for an answer. "Hi, two large pepperoni pizzas. One-eleven Howard Drive. Yeah. Forty-five minutes sounds cool."

Task complete, he headed toward his room. He noticed the pile of accumulated mail teetering on a table in the living room. He started to pick it up, then shrugged and headed up the stairs. "Let Trent deal with it. He's supposed to be the adult." _Maybe I'll ask Daria over to watch TV tomorrow._

* * *

The next day, the two were again walking home together. John said to Daria, "I can't believe you conned them into going to Pizza Forest."

"It's all in the guilt manipulation."

"Congratulations, I think I found somebody whose family is more screwed up than mine."

"Wow, thanks."

As they approached the red brick house, John said. "Um, Daria. Would you like to come over to my house to watch _Sick, Sad World_?"

She gave him one of her understated smiles. "John, it's nice of you to ask, but…um…I don't really know you that well. I'm not very comfortable going over to a guy's house."

John could see her unease. "That's okay."

Daria looked at him for a moment. "Wait here." She went inside and returned a couple minutes later, holding one hand in her jacket pocket. "Why don't we watch it in my living room?"

John's mood brightened. "Okay."

"Pardon my paranoia, but if you'd lived in the town I moved from, you'd understand. I've got a can of pepper spray in each pocket, and I've used it before."

John tensed at the implied threat. _Must have been a rough town._ "I promise to behave."

Inside was a clean and spacious living room, with three comfortable sofa sections arrayed around a round coffee table in front of a sizable entertainment center. Daria went to the table and used the remote there to start the show. She said, "I'll get us some drinks, you like Ultra Cola?"

"I can drink it."

John sat on the center section. When Daria returned, she handed him a can and sat on the section to his right. They watched and made small talk for a while.

While the _Sick, Sad World_ reporter interviewed some acne-faced boy, Daria turned to John. "You know all the answers to the questions on the release test, right?"

"I've got them in my notebook."

"Well, why don't we just take the test tomorrow and get out of the class once and for all?"

"Now that I have a reason to get out, why not?"

"A reason?"

"Um…spending time with you?"

"Oh. Um…sure."

John dug into his backpack and retrieved his notebook. "The exit test really isn't that hard."

* * *

John got home that evening in a far better mood than he could remember. He came through the door and saw his taller sibling sitting on the sofa, staring at a sheet of paper. John went over and said, "Hey, Trent. What's that?"

Trent looked up with more worry in his eyes than John had ever seen. "I think Mom and Dad really screwed things up this time." He handed the paper to John. Across the top was written: NOTICE OF FORECLOSURE AND EVICTION.

John looked at it with shock. "What the hell?"

"Um, I did some digging in the old mail and found this." He handed over a letter from the bank, dated the week before. It stated that their parents were four months behind on mortgage payments and that if was not paid that day, the bank would foreclose and evict them.

John dropped onto the sofa with a thud. _I should have checked that stack of mail yesterday. _"We have to move. Nobody is here to help us, and we don't have anywhere to go."

"I guess we could stay at Jesse's."

"You can stay there. If the man could learn to take a bath more than once a week, I might agree with you."

"I wish there was some way to fight this. But, we don't have enough money to hire someone to help."

John stood up. "I met a girl this week whose mother's a lawyer. Maybe she can help."

"Cool."

"This says we have thirty days to move. Can you drive me over there?"

"But, we have thirty days."

"Trent. We may need all of those to fight this."

"Okay. Let me find my keys."

* * *

There was a red SUV and the blue Lexus John had seen Monday morning parked in the driveway of Daria's house. As Trent pulled his old blue Plymouth to a stop, John said, "Trent, look. I think I like this girl. Please try to behave and not piss-off her parents. Okay?" When he didn't hear a response, John turned and saw his brother asleep. He reached over and turned the engine off. "Better take the keys, just in case."

John left his brother and went to the front door. He wiped his hands on his shirt and touched the doorbell. A few moments later, a forty-something man with brown hair answered the door. After registering that a teenage boy was there, he turned and yelled toward a stairway, "Quinn! Your date is here!"

"Uh. Mr. Morgendorffer?"

The man grinned and extended a hand. "Jake, my man."

"Hi, I'm John."

A woman's voice came from the kitchen. "Oh, dear. Jake, Quinn left on her date half an hour ago. I hope she hasn't double booked."

"I'm not here to see Quinn."

Jake stepped back in confusion as an attractive woman in her forties came up. She said, "I'm sorry, young man. We're not interested in any magazine subscriptions."

John steeled his nerves and extended his hand to the woman. "Mrs. Morgendorffer? I'm John Lane. I'm a friend of your daughter, Daria."

Both parents looked utterly shocked. "Daria?"

"I hope I'm not disturbing anything."

Both repeated, "Daria?"

"Is something wrong?"

The woman shook her head. "Oh, no. I'm sorry, please come in. I'm Helen."

"Hi."

Jake went to the stairs and yelled up. "Daria! Your date is here!"

"I'm not really here for a date."

Daria appeared at the top of the stairs. "Date? What are you talking about?"

Jake stepped to one side. "This young man is here."

Daria looked down in surprise. "John?"

He looked up and said, "Hi."

She came down the stairs. "What are you doing here?"

"I remembered you said your mom was a lawyer."

Helen's eyes narrowed to very thin slits. "I see. What kind of trouble are you in, young man?"

Jake interposed himself between John and Daria, and he clenched his fists.

John hastily unfolded the papers and thrust them at Helen. "A man came by and dropped these off with my brother today. I'm hoping you might be able to help."

Helen scanned the notice. "This looks like a fairly standard foreclosure for nonpayment. Not much that can really be done."

John dropped his shoulders and felt tears trying to rise. "Thanks, anyway. I knew it was an off chance."

Helen looked at him intently. "Why did you bring these here? Where are your parents?"

John realized he might be in trouble. "They're not in town."

"I guessed as much. Where are they?"

John closed his eyes. _Damn._ "Mom's in the Everglades looking into Seminole pottery techniques, and Dad is in Iceland photographing the landscapes."

"How long have they been gone?"

"Mom about three months, Dad about six."

"They left you home alone?"

"I'm with my brother, Trent."

"I see. Where is he now?"

"Uh…out in his car."

Helen turned to her husband. "Jake, go out and get him, now."

"Sure thing, Honey."

Helen turned. "Daria, why haven't you mentioned this young man before?"

"It never came up. He's in several of my classes and he's walked home with me the last couple days."

"Uh-huh."

John looked around. "Look, I'm sorry to have troubled you. If there isn't anything to be done, I should leave."

Helen put her hand on his shoulder. "Young man, you're not going anywhere for the moment."

Jake came in, his face pale and his voice shaken. "John, your brother…"

"Give me a second; sometimes he's a little difficult to wake up. I promise I won't go anywhere."

John moved out of the house and took a moment to breath. "I think I just really screwed up."

He continued to the car and yanked the door open. Trent fell over onto the ground. He looked up in a daze. "What? Sorry, officer, I swear it wasn't my handprint."

"Can the excuse, you idiot, and wake up!"

"Oh, hey, John."

John grabbed his shoulders and pulled Trent upright. "Inside."

"Sure."

As he guided the still-drowsy Trent to the door, he said, "Trent, this is Mr. and Mrs. Morgendorffer and Daria, the girl I mentioned."

Trent looked up. "Hey."

"Everyone, this is my brother, Trent."

Helen looked carefully at the young man in torn jeans and threadbare t-shirt. She sniffed slightly and wrinkled her nose. "Okay, come on in, both of you."

Trent looked around before slouching on the sofa. Helen sat on the other end of the same unit. "Young man, how old are you?"

"Twenty-one."

"I see." She turned toward the rest. "Jake, Daria, why don't you take John into the kitchen and see if he wants something to drink."

Jake clapped John's shoulder. "Come on, dude."

Jake stopped at the refrigerator while Daria led John to the table. She whispered, "John, how did that foreclosure happen?"

"Mom and Dad forgot to leave the house payments. We didn't catch the letter from the bank until after the notice was delivered today."

"You said your parents were…oh crap. John, you're fifteen, living with your underemployed brother and your house is being foreclosed."

John dropped his head on the table. "I know. She's going to call Family Services. I knew that when she asked where Mom and Dad were."

"Maybe Trent could be declared a guardian or something."

John looked at Daria. "You're kidding."

"You said that Trent's basically helped to raise you the last couple years."

"Well, yeah. Helped. I've more like raised myself since seventh grade."

Jake set a couple cans of Ultra Cola on the table. "Here you go. So, you're friends with Daria."

Daria looked at John with a hopeful glint in her eye. He said, "Yeah."

Jake said, "Daria is a special girl."

"I kind of noticed." He saw a faint blush on Daria's cheeks.

"So, what do you do for a living?"

"I…ah…go to school. I'm a little too young to get a job."

"Oh, yeah. Do you have any hobbies?"

"I like to paint and draw; it's what I hope to do for a living."

"Do you play any sports?"

Helen fast-walked into the kitchen. "John, what did you eat for breakfast today?"

"Excuse me?"

"What did you eat for breakfast?"

John looked at her. _Damn, we're screwed._

Helen's eyes were merciless. "I'm waiting."

He dropped his eyes. "A slice of leftover pizza."

"I was afraid of something like that. Dinner tonight?"

"I was planning on Cluster Burger."

"At least that is something."

Helen's cell phone rang; she yanked it from her pocket and sweetly said, "Hello."

Her eyes glazed in frustration as she listened, finally saying, "Eric, I have a home situation I have to deal with. That will have to wait until tomorrow…No, this situation can't wait…I will explain when I get in…I know you expect hard work from your associates…Eric, this is an unavoidable situation…Yes, I will fully explain…Trust me, ignoring this situation will be bad for me and the firm…yes, the firm…I will explain…tomorrow morning. Good-bye." She clicked off the phone and dropped it back into her pocket. "There's going to be hell to pay for that little exchange."

Sadly, John asked, "What are you going to do?"

Helen sat at the table next to John. "I'm obliged to report this. By all legal definitions, your parents have abandoned you."

Daria leaned over. "What about his brother? He's legal age."

Helen sighed. "It looks like Trent can barely take care of himself." She looked John directly in the eye. "Tell me the truth. Do you smoke pot?"

John sunk in his chair. "You smelled it on him. No, I don't. I like to run and that's bad for your lungs."

"Okay. Young man, you need help."

"I'm doing okay."

Helen reached to him. "No, you're not. You're rail-thin. I'm sure you're not eating properly."

"I am. I think."

Helen glared at him as she would a stubborn witness.

John sunk lower. "No, I'm not."

* * *

An hour later, Daria sat alone in her room, looking at the gray padded walls. While she was still adapting to her new surroundings, she took an instant liking to them. While she normally found comfort in those walls, tonight, though, they felt oppressive. After an on-call social worker had arrived and started to interview John and Trent, Daria had been asked to stay in her room. She could occasionally hear Trent's raised voice, but not clearly enough to understand his comments.

In time, there was a knock, and her mother came in. "Daria?"

"I'm here."

"That poor boy."

"Mom, what's going to happen?"

"He'll be placed into foster care. At his age, he probably won't be adopted and will stay in foster care until he's eighteen."

"The odds are against him staying in school here, aren't they?"

Helen averted her eyes. "They are."

Daria knotted her hands together and thought hard. A moment passed before she straightened her back, steadied her nerves, and said, "Mom…we have a spare room."

"Daria, do you know what you're asking?"

"Yes. I've had plenty of time to think since you sent me up here like an eight-year old."

"I don't think that would work."

"Mom, how many friends did I have in Highland?"

"What?"

"How many friends did I have in Highland?"

Helen looked at the floor. "None, that I can remember."

"Correct. I thin…I found a friend here. I don't want to lose him so soon."

"Daria, you just met him. How can you consider him your boyfriend?"

Daria sighed. "Not boyfriend. Friend."

"Oh," Helen said with a hint of suspicion

"Mom. Please?"

"We hardly know him. It wouldn't feel safe."

Daria looked out the window, past the cut off bars. "Mom, what kind of risk will there be to John if he stays here?"

"None. Why would he be at risk?"

"What kind of risk will he be at if he goes into the child welfare system of this state?"

"Higher than none," Helen quietly said.

Daria turned to look at her.

Helen scrutinized her face. "I've never seen you go to bat for someone like this. Okay. We give him a try. But, any, and I mean any signs of trouble, and out he goes."

"Deal. Thanks."

"Follow me. We need to arrange this. And I'm going to have to make an early stop at the courthouse tomorrow."

They went downstairs to find a dejected Trent sitting on the sofa as the social worker filled out forms on the coffee table. Daria immediately asked, "Where's John?"

"I had a police officer take him to his house to pick up personal belongings, the social worker said. "They should be back in a little while."

Helen said, "Ms. Collins, have you found a place for him to stay?"

She shook her head. "Not yet."

"Please give me a couple minutes; I may have an answer."

Helen went into the kitchen. "Jake, we need to talk."

Daria sat next to Trent. "Um, hi."

Trent looked at her. "Hi."

"I'm sorry about all this."

Trent bowed his head. "I guess we were fooling ourselves."

"John said you've watched out for him the last three years."

"Yeah."

"That's kind of cool."

"I tried."

"So, you're a musician."

"Yeah."

They sat in silence, watching Ms. Collins fill out forms.

Helen and Jake returned from the kitchen. "Ms. Collins, tomorrow morning, Jake and I will apply for temporary custody of John."

Trent looked at Helen with clear distrust.

Ms. Collins looked up. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She leaned back in relief. "Thank you. We were coming up empty. I didn't want to put that boy in juvenile hall for the night."

Both Trent and Daria were startled. Daria said, "Juvenile hall?"

"It's a bad situation, but when we can't place a minor, that's the last resort."

Trent gritted his teeth, stood, and faced Jake and Helen. "Thanks. He's a good kid."

"I have two daughters living here, Helen warned. "He better be."

* * *

John found the trip home supremely depressing. He had to ride in the back, and the officer barely spoke. "_Pick up enough personal effects for a couple days," Mrs. Collins said. What a night: I go from feeling the best I can remember to being kicked out of my home._ _Great. I try to get help, and I don't even get thirty days._

Inside his house, John found his black, round suitcase and stuffed some spare clothes into it. He went to the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush, deodorant, and comb. _Wherever they're sending me will probably have toothpaste. Better leave ours, or Trent might get confused._

While John gathered his belongings, the officer looked around the house and photographed various rooms. _The house is a wreck. This must look just great._ After grabbing a stack of sketchbooks and his school backpack, John went downstairs with the suitcase. "I'm ready."

The officer simply nodded and went to the car, holding the back door open. John stopped at the front door and yelled out, "Do you mind if I leave some food out for the cats?"

The officer shook his head and muttered, "Hurry up."

John went to the kitchen and poured a large helping of dry cat food into a bowl. "I hope they don't decide to be pigs and eat it all in one sitting. I hope we can find them when we have to get out of here." He looked around and headed back to the police car, grimly setting his things in back before entering.

The trip back was just a blur of a suburban fall evening. Upon arrival, the officer opened the back door. "Get your stuff. Since it doesn't look like anyone's going to be violent, I'll get back on patrol."

_Back to Do Me A Donut, you mean._

John carried his belongings into the Morgendorffer house. He shuffled in and dropped his stuff. "Okay, where the hell am I going?"

Helen came over to him. "Daria made a strong case for you to stay here. Jake and I agreed."

He sighed in relief and looked at Daria, who gave him a shy shrug. To Helen, he said, "Thanks."

Helen sternly said, "Young man. We expect you to behave like a complete gentleman around her. We're taking a big risk with you. We won't hesitate to send you into foster care."

"I understand."

"Good. Let me show you to your room." Helen led the way and John followed upstairs to an empty guest room. A sleeping bag, pillow and sheet were set on the floor amid a couple stacks of unpacked moving boxes. Helen set a hand on his shoulder. "I know you must be frightened." She looked at the sleeping bag. "We weren't planning on using this as a guest room yet. This gives me an excuse to get one to match the room tomorrow."

"Thanks." John went in and placed his belongings next to the sleeping bag.

"The bathroom is the next room over. We get up at seven. There's plenty in the kitchen, make sure you get a good breakfast."

"I will."

"Please come back downstairs when you're ready."

He shrugged, "I'm ready now. Uh, do you have anything I could grab to eat? I kind of never made it to Cluster Burger."

"There's leftover lasagna in the refrigerator. I'll get you some."

When they got downstairs, the police officer was already gone and the caseworker was snapping her briefcase closed. She said, "Mrs. Morgendorffer, I have all the paperwork filled out and will drop it off at the courthouse on my way home. Judge Tifton normally handles these cases first thing in the morning. Any questions?"

Helen shook her head. "No."

"Then, I'll be on my way." She smiled and left the house.

John sat next to Trent. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have suggested this."

Trent patted his shoulder and bitterly said, "No, it's Mom and Dad's fault."

"Yeah, but if…"

"Shut up, Johnny."

Trent got out of the seat and squatted in front of John. "We ride this out, like always."

"I'll try."

"I'm going to try to get ahold of Mom or Dad."

Following a bitter laugh, John said, "Good luck," as he reached into his pocked and handed Trent the car keys. "You might need these."

"Yeah. So, you behave. I'm going to get started."

"Sure."

Trent started toward the door. "I'm going to try to call my folks and stuff."

Helen came in from the kitchen with a plate of lasagna and said, "Trent, please realize that this is a legal matter now, and your parents will be likely be facing charges."

"Yeah, but they need to know. Later."

Trent also proceeded to leave, while Helen said, "Good luck, young man." She set the plate in front of John. "Enjoy."

Daria cautiously sat near him. "I hope you didn't mind my suggestion you stay here."

John looked at her and smiled. "From being afraid of going to my house, to inviting me to live with you in only a few hours. You work fast, don't you?"

"Don't get any ideas. However, you're the only friend I've had in years. Call me selfish, but I didn't want to lose that."

"Besides Trent, you're the only person who seems to want me around. I accept your selfishness."

* * *

Trent sat in his car and angrily pulled his hands back through his hair. "That…nosy bitch!" He started the engine and barely kept from barking the tires as he backed away. "She's not taking my little brother away." He drove back to his house in a rush. If any police had noticed, they would have given him enough citations to suspend his license in one go.

At home, he found the contact number for his mother. "Good." He sat on his bed and entered the number.

After two rings, a voice answered, "We're sorry, the number you are trying to reach is not in service at this time."

"Dammit."

Trent got up and went to the kitchen to paw through the refrigerator notes for a while, "This might be it." He grabbed the downstairs phone and entered the next, lengthier number. Someone speaking in a Scandinavian-sounding language answered the line.

Trent said, "Uh, hello?"

There was a brief pause before another voice answered. "Hello. Reykjavik Grand Hotel."

"Um, hey. I need to talk to Vincent Lane; I think he's staying there."

"I may ask who calling?"

"Trent…oh, his son."

"Moment, please."

After a pause, the voice returned. "Mr. Lane climb volcano up. Next Wednesday return."

"Okay. I'll try then."

Trent set the phone down and leaned against the counter. "Dammit, they can't take Johnny away like that."

* * *

John spent the next couple of hours interviewed by Helen, with occasional comments from Jake. The latter also injected a couple of odd, confusing rants about military school that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

John said he was the youngest of five in his family. The oldest, brother Wind, had a knack for failed relationships and bad marriages. Sister Summer had four children who frequently ran away. Next was Penny, who'd spent over nine years in South and Central America. Finally, he talked about Trent, his music, and how he had tried his best after his parents, Amanda and Vincent Lane seemed to feel that they didn't need to hang around much after Trent turned eighteen.

Quinn barged in through the front door. "Ooohh! I just had the most miserable date. I should have known he was a loser when he didn't even have a cassette player in his car! And, oh my God! He took me to an Italian restaurant! What could he be thinking? All that fatty food? I mean, cheese, more cheese than you could imagine. Who the hell is that guy sitting on the sofa?"

Helen stood up. "Quinn. This young man is John, he's going to be staying with us a while."

Quinn looked in shock. "Staying? As in, staying? Here?"

Helen's hands went to her hips. "Yes, Quinn. He's a friend of Daria's and has some problems at home. You will treat him with respect."

"Mo-om! Think of my image! Two geeks living in my house? The damage to my reputation?"

Daria looked on in disgust. "Gee, Quinn. Now you can have two cousins living with you."

Quinn stormed up to her room. "Gawd! You people are trying to ruin my life!"

Helen gave John an embarrassed smile. "Quinn is a little…high strung on some things. I'm sure she'll warm to you."

Daria said, "And you'll need the heat, because Hell will be frozen over."

John said, "Mrs. Morgendorffer. It's been a busy night and I…um…haven't really had a chance to do any homework. Plus, Daria and I were going to try to test out of the Self-Esteem class early."

With a hand raised to her mouth, Helen replied, "Oh, dear. I've been keeping you from your homework. You want to test out of the class early; that's wonderful! Daria, why don't you two go upstairs and study. But, keep the door open."

* * *

The two went upstairs. John grabbed his backpack from his room and followed Daria into hers. He said, "This is cool. What's the deal? You don't get this stuff standard equipment."

Daria sat on her bed. "The previous owner had a schizophrenic shut-in living here. Mom hasn't had the time to remodel. If she keeps up her current work pace, it will be about the time she retires."

John sat next to her. "I really owe you. Summer's kids have all spent time in the system. Some of their stories are scary."

"Did you really want to study?"

"Well, it made a good excuse." He weakly smiled. "Yeah, with all that's happened, I can't be wasting time listening to O'Neill's crap."

He pulled his notebook from the backpack. "Self-esteem is important because…?

* * *

_Three-twenty-six._ John looked at his alarm clock on the floor and swept the sheet to the side. He got up and went to a window to look out over the back yard. _What a day. Trent was right: we were foolish to think that nobody would notice. _He squeezed his eyes shut in frustration_. Dammit! Why couldn't Mom and Dad bother to come home more often? _He looked again at the neatly trimmed yard. _Well, it was nice while it lasted. _John looked at the crescent over the trees. _I've never seen Trent so angry except for that time I tried his pot. I hope he's all right._

He looked to his right, where he knew Daria's room was. _At least…I have a friend now. I can't believe somebody else would stick up for me like that. _A smile came to his lips. _I saw her without the jacket; she's even cuter than I thought. Got a look a little farther up her skirt when she was standing at the top of the stairs, nice legs._

He went back to the window and stared out for a while longer before crawling back into bed.

* * *

John yelled to the knocking on the door, "Freaking hell, Trent! What are you doing up?" His eyes focused on a moving box and he remembered where he was.

Helen's voice came through the door. "Young man, it is time to get up."

He crawled over to the door and pulled himself up. As he achieved a vertical posture, he opened it. "Sorry. Forgot where I was."

Helen immediately turned her head to the side. "In the future, could you please put some pants on before opening the door?"

John looked down to realize he was only wearing the briefs he normally slept in. Red-faced, he moved behind the door and said, "I guess I'm used to only having my brother around."

"Okay, get dressed and come down for breakfast."

John sleepily nodded and closed the door. "Oh, I'm doing good. Standing around in my underwear in front of her mother." He put on some fresh clothes from his suitcase and grabbed his toothbrush and comb.

Outside, he saw Daria waiting by the closed bathroom door, wearing a loose shirt, shorts and socks. She pointed a thumb at the door. "Her highness got there first. This could be a while."

John half-shrugged and began dragging his comb through his hair. "Hi. I, um, think I may have upset your mother this morning."

"Well, she usually needs at least one good freak-out to get her going. What did you do?"

"I wasn't thinking and answered the door wearing only my underwear."

Daria's eyes momentarily widened. "That must have been good. But don't make a habit of it. She wasn't kidding about you behaving yourself."

"I got that idea."

"How…did you sleep?"

John yawned. _Great timing._ "Not good."

"I'm not surprised. Looks like you have your stuff with you. Why don't you use the downstairs bathroom instead of waiting?"

"Thanks, though I still need some toothpaste."

"There should be more in the kitchen pantry. Ask Mom or Dad."

"Thanks. I'll see you downstairs."

John went to the kitchen. Helen was drinking coffee at the counter and closing her briefcase. Jake was at the table, reading a paper. John cleared his throat and said, "Daria said I could use the bathroom down here, and to get the spare toothpaste from the pantry."

Helen looked up and let out a slight sigh. "I see you share Daria's habit of a single style of clothes."

"I guess."

Helen went to the pantry and pulled out the toothpaste. "Here. I'll be gone by the time you get out, if I'm to get to the courthouse first thing this morning. There's cereal in the cupboard, juice, milk and bread in the refrigerator. Just ask anyone if you need anything else."

John accepted the tube. "Thanks."

* * *

John was just opening the door back into the kitchen when he heard Jake saying, "Quinn, you're up and out of here early this morning. Big day in school or something?"

"Daddy, if you won't drive me to school, I have to get an early start so I won't be seen with them."

"But Quinn, won't it be nice to have your sister and her friend to talk to on the way?"

"Oooh! Daddy, you just don't understand. I've got to go, bye."

"Bye, Quinn."

_Damn, talk about a cold brat_. John jogged upstairs to drop off his toothbrush; then came back. Jake was still reading the paper as John located a bowl and poured some cereal. He went to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of milk. After sniffing it, he added some to the bowl. Finally, he discovered the silverware drawer and dropped a spoon in.

He stood still, looking at the table, before going over and sitting down. With no visible response from Jake, he began to eat.

After several more minutes, Daria came in, fixed a bowl of cereal, and sat next to John. "Hi, Dad, John."

Jake lowered the paper. "Morning, Kiddo. Oh, hey, John. How's it going?"

John looked down in the bowl. _A real breakfast. This is nice._ "Uh, all right, for waking up in a strange house after being removed from your home."

A strange look appeared in Jake's eyes. "Oh, I can understand that!" Jake's voice rose to a shout. "Driven from your childhood home! Heartless old bastard! No warning, just up and on my way to military school!"

Daria reached over and touched his raised arm. "Dad."

Jake's eyes refocused and he looked at his daughter. "What? Oh, yeah."

"We don't want to frighten our guest."

"No, we wouldn't. You know, John, it'll be good having another man around. This house could use a little more scratching and belching."

* * *

Trent sat in the basement with the members of his band, Mystik Spiral, scattered around. Jesse was a well-built young man with wavy, brown hair. Max had shaved his head bald, and Nick's current hair color was brown.

"Guys, that won't work," Trent said. "I have to get out of here in a month. We need a new place to practice."

Nick said, "Hey, we could take up old man McGrundy on his offer. Clean up the place and we can practice there in the afternoons."

Trent thought for a moment. "That's…almost like work. But, we're desperate. I say we go for it."

Max frowned. "We're criminales! We practice where we want."

Nick responded, "Yeah, and get arrested, like we did when we practiced in the park."

"Oh, yeah. But, work?"

Trent was bummed. "I know. Are we in?"

Jesse said, "Cool."

Nick said, "I'm in."

Max tried to look annoyed at the other three. "Fine, be that way. We practice at McGrundy's."

Trent said, "Nick, you still got the number for that free lawyer?"

"The one from my divorce?"

"Yeah."

"You're going to fight the eviction?"

"I'll ask, but I bet it's too late for that. This is for Johnny."

Jesse said, "Whoa. What happened?"

"He thought the mother of a girl he's started to see could help. She called in Family Services and is trying to take him away."

Nick said, "Aw, man. That sucks. I'll get you the number."

Max said, "But, Johnny seeing a girl. That's cool."

Trent shook his head. "I don't know. This girl seems to be playing people."

Nick said, "How?"

"Her mom and the social worker talked about putting him in foster care. The mom went upstairs to tell the girl. When they came down, Mom was all, 'he's going to stay here.'"

Jesse said, "Sounds like she likes him."

"I don't trust her."

Nick said, "Johnny better be careful. He doesn't need to end up like me. Damn child support."

Max nodded. "Yeah, you think this chick might try to get knocked-up or something?"

Trent looked down. "I don't know. But, I'm keeping my eyes open."

* * *

Mr. O'Neill noticed Daria and John staying after class. "Hi! Did you need clarification on something we covered today?"

Daria said, "We feel really good about ourselves."

John nodded toward the notes on the desk. "We want to take the graduation test."

Mr. O'Neill smiled with pride. "Well! I'm glad your self-image meter is on the uptick! But there's still three more weeks of class left."

Daria said, "This first week has been a real eye-opener. It must be the way you teach."

Mr. O'Neill looked down as if flattered by the comment, "Oh, well... thank you very much." He looked at John. "You know, you look familiar somehow..."

Daria persisted. "So can we take the test?"

"Well, it's not the way we usually do it, but...I guess so." After picking up the test from his notes, he said, "Okay, question one: Self-esteem is important because..."

Daria rolled her eyes back. "It's a quality that will stand us in good stead the rest of our lives."

"Very good. Now, the next time I start to feel bad about myself..."

John crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one hip. "Stand before the mirror, look myself in the eye and say, 'You are special. No one else is like you.'"

With more enthusiasm, O'Neill said, "You two really have been paying attention! Okay, there's no such thing..."

John droned, "As the right weight."

Daria continued, "Or the right height."

John picked up again. "There's only what's right for me."

Daria finished with, "Because me is who I am."

Mr. O'Neill beamed with joy. "I don't think we have to go any farther. I am really pleased! I think the whole school needs to hear about this at assembly!"

John shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Confused, O'Neill asked, "Why?"

"Think of the shock to our self-esteem if you point out to the whole school that we had low self-esteem."

Daria picked up on the thought. "Yeah, it could destroy all your hard work."

O'Neill's hands rose to his face. "Oh, dear. Oh, dear. I hadn't thought of that. I'll make sure you get your passing grade and will mail the certificates to you. I need to change the entire completion ceremony now." He started shuffling through his notes, clearly forgetting that John and Daria were there. "Oh, dear. How many students have I humiliated?"

John spun and said, "I think that's our cue to get out of here."

"I'm with you."

* * *

Daria looked at the blue Lexus. "Dad's home."

John said, "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

Daria looked at John. "I'm not, either. I don't get it: they let Quinn go out on dates every night, and don't trust me to spend the afternoon with you."

Jake greeted them from the sofa, "Hey, Kiddo! Hey, John."

"Hi, Dad."

"Hey, Mr. Morgendorffer."

Jake looked at the two. "Say, what do you want to do?"

John thought a moment. "Could you drive us over to my old house, so I can get more of my stuff?"

"I thought that's what the policeman did last night?"

"I was only able to grab a few things. Most of my art supplies and clothes are still there."

"Oh, I guess I can. Let me get my keys. They're up in the bedroom."

Jake walked up the stairs as Daria said, "What are you up to?"

"Getting my stuff. Unless somebody does laundry often, I'm going to get pretty smelly. I was only able to pack three sets of clothes."

"Okay, I get the idea."

"And, I really want to do some painting or something. It helps me deal."

"Like my writing."

* * *

John noticed the black van parked in the driveway as they approached. "Looks like Trent's band is here, or at least the drummer."

Daria leaned over from the front seat to ask, "Trent has a band?"

"Yeah, Mystik Spiral."

"Sounds like a Doors cover band."

"They wish they were that good."

Jake developed a slightly dreamy look. "The Doors." He began to hum the tune of _L.A. Woman_, very poorly.

John tapped Jake. "Pull in behind that black van."

"No problemo."

"Give me a few minutes."

Daria held her hand on the door handle for a couple seconds before saying, "I'll go with."

"Save a trip, sure."

Inside the house, John said, "The band's probably in the basement, asleep. If they were practicing, you could have heard them a block away. I want to check on Trent before we leave."

"Sure. He seemed like he was worried about you."

"At times, I think he worries about me more than he worries about himself. Follow me, and watch your feet. You never know what might explode."

Daria followed, making sure to heed his advice.

John stopped at the door, looking around. Daria stopped behind and asked, "Are you okay?"

"I just realized. I'm not going to see this again. This is the only room I remember having."

"Hey, I thought I heard something," Trent said, coming up the stairs.

John stepped back and turned. "Trent, good to see you. Were you able to get a hold of Mom or Dad?"

"No."

"Crap. Figures."

"Johnny, how're you doing?"

"I'm okay. The Morgendorffers are being nice to me so far. I came by to get some more clothes and stuff, since it looks like I'll be there a while."

"I'll give you a hand. The band just left."

John grimaced. "I hope they don't scare Mr. Morgendorffer. He's waiting outside."

Daria said, "He'll get over it."

Trent looked Daria up and down. "Yeah. I talked to Nick's old lawyer. The house is gone, nothing we can do."

John frowned. "That's what Daria's mom said. Where are you going?"

"I'll find a place, don't worry. Maybe Monique's."

"You two break up every couple weeks. What about Jesse?"

"His scented candles stink. But, don't worry, I'll find something. Here, let me help."

Nervous, Daria began to help the brothers move loose clothing (some desperately in need of washing) and his art supplies. Jake stayed at the car to help get things loaded. After a couple trips, Daria and Trent were alone in John's room.

Trent stopped her and said, "I don't know what you're up to, but I'll be watching."

"What?"

"I'll be watching." Trent balanced the stereo speakers on the system and carried them downstairs.

John came in the room right after, as Daria stood still, watching the door. He waved a hand in front of her. "Daria?"

"Sorry, just thinking."

* * *

Using Trent's car, they had managed to get everything of his that was worth bringing, in one trip. His clothes were mostly put away, except the large pile waiting to be washed.

The drafting table had been a challenge, but had made it. The old easy chair had been abandoned in place. "I'll miss it," he said, "but I don't think Mrs. Morgendorffer would have allowed it to stay."

The Morgendorffer's leftover moving boxes had been transferred to the attic and his possessions moved in. Most of his old artwork and wall hangings were still semi-neatly stacked on the floor. The stereo was assembled and working. The TV was hooked up to the basic cable feed in the room; more channels would have to wait for the cable installer on Monday.

John sat on his new bed and stared at an open sketchpad. The bed, along with a dresser, had been delivered to the Morgendorffer's soon after their return from his old home. The drawing that grew was disjointed and fractured. Different images were juxtaposed across the page at odd angles and most only in pieces.

He flipped the page and started on another. A dark and somber image of his old house appeared, falling apart and sinking into the ground like the House of Usher. He yawned widely and stretched. _Okay, I'm also feeling the lack of sleep._ A soft knock helped to wake him. "Come in."

Daria approached, leaving the door open several inches. She had on her usual black skirt and mustard colored shirt, but the jacket was gone and she wore only socks on her feet. Without the jacket, a bit more of her feminine form was noticeable. "Hi, can I talk with you a bit?"

John patted the bed. "Have a seat." He flipped to a new page and began carefully drawing.

Daria sat on the bed, but not close enough to touch. "Holding up?"

"Managing."

"Been some week, hasn't it?"

"You got that right."

"I…meant what I said last night. That I think you're a friend."

He lowered the pad for a second and smiled. "Thanks. Same here."

"It looks like Dad is looking forward to having another guy around the house. I think he's been a little uncomfortable in a house full of females."

"I got that impression. Um, you people aren't going to form a lynch party if I leave the toilet seat up, are you?"

"Well, I have enough sense to look first, but Mom or Quinn…it would be a good idea to train yourself fast."

"I guess I better. I want to stay on your Mom's good side."

"She's torn between her old hippie conscience to help and her mother bear instincts to protect."

"I hope she doesn't keep feeling she needs to protect you from me." John looked at the slightly older girl. "I don't think I could hurt you."

Daria looked slightly to the side. "Oh, uh…thanks."

Sensing her discomfort, John said, "What do you think of Lawndale High?" He drew out the school name in imitation of the principal, Ms. Li's voice.

Daria began holding up fingers. "Let's see. O'Neill is so whimpy, he makes my old teacher, Mr. Van Drissen, look like a pit bull. DeMartino is borderline psychotic. Bennett draws things on the board that have no relation to what she's discussing, Morris is your typical sadist gym teacher, and Barch…I think militant feminist is too soft a term for her. All in all, a step up from Highland High."

John lowered the pad. "Lawndale is a step up?"

"The water is safe to drink, and you don't have students pulling their shirts over their heads and searching for toilet paper."

"That sounds too weird for clarification."

* * *

Alone again, John looked at the drawing of Daria he'd made that evening. _One advantage of being an artist: you don't have to wait for film developing._ It was a three-quarter view portrait that John had worked on during the entire conversation. _I hope I can get her to pose for something better._

Placed in the room corner, the bed allowed John to face toward Daria's room when he sat up in it. He lowered the drawing and looked at the wall. _This sucks. I find a girl I want to ask out, and I can't. I know Mrs. Morgendorffer would toss me into foster care the instant I did anything like that. Crap._

He looked in the direction he estimated his old house to be. _I wonder what Trent is up to? I know he feels responsible for me, and this has to be eating at him. I hope he doesn't do anything stupid._

* * *

Daria sat on her bed, reading her diary entry from earlier in the week.

**_Started school this week. It's reassuring to know that no matter where you go, kids are the same…stupid and shallow. Shockingly, Quinn fit in immediately; now she's managed to convince her new friends that it's just a coincidence that two girls named Morgendorffer happened to start school on the same day. I kind of admire her for that. The way you'd admire Attila the Hun for being focused._**

Daria began to write.

**_Not everyone here is friendly and popular. There's this one boy named John who is snide, antisocial and resentful. Finally, a friend. He'd invited me to watch Sick Sad, World at his house. Since I wasn't comfortable going over there, I grabbed the cans of mace I had from Highland and invited him in to watch here._**

**_That is when life became strange. While we were watching TV, eviction papers were served on his home. His parents have been gone for a couple months and forgot to leave the mortgage payments. They've been out of town for most of the past few years, and his brother Trent has looked after him (sort of – I get the feeling John also had to look after Trent)._**

**_Mom's old social services experience kicked in and things went from there. Now, John is staying down the hall in what was to be the guest bedroom with Mom and Dad as temporary, and very paranoid, guardians. I don't think Trent likes us, and seems particularly to distrust me._**

**_After John left yesterday (before everything hit the fan), I started hoping he would ask me out for a date. Damn. If we do anything like that now, Mom would have a cow. Although the visual effect might be entertaining, the fallout would not. Just my luck. Quinn goes out on two or three dates a night. The one guy I might go out with, I can't even consider._**

* * *

Early Sunday afternoon, John woke and scratched his chin. He proceeded to feel the whiskers on his throat and cheeks. "Damn, knew I would forget something." He dressed in his running gear of white shorts and red t-shirt and went to the bathroom.

As he washed his face and brushed his teeth, he noticed a bright pink razor on the counter next to the bathtub. He spat out the toothpaste and grabbed the razor. "That should work." He soaped up his face and removed the last few days' growth.

When he got downstairs, he saw that Jake had fallen asleep on the sofa while watching a football game. He didn't immediately see anybody else. Patting his pocket to make sure he had both house keys, he went out the front door and began a jog to the west. _Might was well head over and see if Trent's still at the old place and see how he's doing._

He picked up a harder pace about halfway there. The beat of his footsteps soothed his mind. As he approached, he noticed the driveway was empty. The front door was unlocked and he yelled inside, "Trent!"

With no immediate answer, he went inside. Angry howls from two striped cats, one orange, the other gray, greeted him. _I bet Trent forgot to feed them._ "Taylor, Zachary, come on." The cats followed him into the kitchen, where both bowls were empty. He filled one with water and set it down; the cats went to it right away. He poured dry food into the other, and the cats changed their opinion on what was more important.

While the cats ate, he went upstairs to Trent's room. To his annoyance, his brother's belongings were gone. John went down to the basement; the band's gear was also gone. Frustrated, he went back to the kitchen. There was a stack of mail on the table, with a note beside it.

**_I'm staying with Monique for now. Found a letter from Mom, she'll be back end of next week. We need to get together then to find a place for everyone's stuff. Sorry I haven't been by, I miss you. I'm still working on things, don't worry._**

_**Trent.**_

**_PS Monique's place doesn't allow cats. Need to find a home for them._**

"Well, I guess I better find out if the Morgendorffers like cats." He sat on the floor between them and scratched their heads. "Looks like you're getting new homes soon, too."

John pushed harder on his run back to Glen Oaks Drive, the last fifty yards at a sprint. After pausing a moment at the door to catch his breath, he went in. Jake was still asleep on the sofa and the game was in the halftime show.

He went to the kitchen and pulled a pitcher of water from the refrigerator. He tilted it back and drained half the contents in a series of rapid gulps. Still breathing hard, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and noticed Helen watching him from the table.

"John, around here, we do not act like barbarians. We drink out of glasses."

"Oops, sorry. Been out for a run and was thirsty."

"Still, drinking from the pitcher is not acceptable."

"I'll try to remember. With just me and Trent around, we didn't worry too much about things like that."

"You're still trying to adjust. I understand."

"We didn't have many rules before. Well, except the one about not starting fires in rooms without fireplaces."

"Somehow, I don't doubt that. However, you have been well behaved."

"No offense, but I know my staying here rides on that."

Helen observed his sweat-soaked clothes. "Are you on the track team?"

John laughed. "Put up with Coach Morris? No way."

"I'm starting to see you're as much of a joiner as Daria. No wonder you two get along."

"That could be it. By the way, do you like cats?"

* * *

John was still behind the curtain after finishing his post-run shower when he heard the bathroom door open. _Crap! Forgot to lock the door._

Outside the shower, he heard Daria say, "Oh! Sorry, I didn't know you were here. The door wasn't locked."

He poked his head around the shower curtain. "My fault."

Daria's cheeks were pink as she turned away from his nude form blurred by the shower curtain. She quickly said, "Um, I'll let you finish," and bolted out of the room.

He toweled off. After changing into fresh clothes, he gently knocked on Daria's door. She answered, "It's open."

By quickly learned habit, he left the door mostly open when he entered. _I don't want Mrs. Morgendorffer charging in again. _"I should've locked the door."

"Let me guess: you're not used to having a working lock on the door."

He laughed. "Yeah."

"I…um, hope I didn't embarrass you."

"I think you were more embarrassed."

"That was the closest I've ever been to seeing a guy naked."

"Almost your first, I'm touched."

Daria groaned. "Thanks so much for your sympathy."

"Oh, I forgot my razor and used the pink one in there. You might want to change blades; I had a lot to hack away."

"That's Quinn's. I have an electric. She claims that they don't get as close, but it works fine for me."

"Should I tell her?"

"Nah, I will."

* * *

That evening, John and Daria were in the living room watching television with Jake, who asked, "John, who's your pick for the Super Bowl this year?"

John gave a one-shoulder shrug. "I don't follow sports."

Jake looked down. "Oh."

"I run. I follow that some."

A piercing scream came from the upstairs bathroom. Jake bolted upright and ran up the stairs. "Quinn!"

"What happened to my razor? Quinn yelled. "Argh! I won't be able to wear a short skirt all week!"

Daria snapped her fingers. "Darn. I knew I forgot something."

John raised one eyebrow. "Such sisterly devotion."

A gray striped cat jumped in his lap and stuck its nose in his face. John scratched the cat's head and said, "Taylor, you beasts better be on your best behavior, too. We're still on probation."

Jake grinned at the feline. "I'm glad you brought the kitties over. I wanted a cat as a boy." Jake's eyes narrowed to slits as his voiced raised quickly. "But, no! My foul-hearted father wouldn't allow it. 'Dogs are for boys. Cats are for girls.' Not that he would even let met get a dog! Probably because it would be too much like family for him."

Taylor looked at Jake and back away, under John's arm.

* * *

"Apologize I must, Sir. Mr. Lane checked out today," said the Icelandic desk clerk.

"Dammit. Where'd he go?"

"Do not know."

"Fine. Bye."

Trent dropped the phone on the cradle. "Mom will be here Friday."

* * *

John stood next to Daria while she sat on his bed, browsing a sketchbook. The afternoons were a little more relaxed since Jake and Helen accepted the reality that Jake couldn't keep coming home from work at 3:00 every afternoon.

Daria said, "These are really good. I didn't know you studied life drawing."

"Yeah, last summer."

Daria stopped at one page, surprised. "Oh. I'm a little surprised that they would have models like that."

John smiled. "She was a bit top heavy. I think she had them overdone."

"I meant, well, nude models."

"It was a life drawing class."

Trying to change the subject, Daria said, "Brittany invited me to her party."

"Speaking of overdone boobs. Are you going?"

"Sure, and after that, I'll swallow glass. Why, do you want to go?"

"Oh, no. I'd much rather stay here under the watchful eyes of your mother. I bet I could get some great sketches there."

"I'm sure there'll be plenty of people posing." Daria looked down at herself. "But, I don't think you will be able to pass yourself off as me."

He reached over and removed her glasses, putting them on. In an imitation of her voice, he said, "Hi, I'm Daria. Go to hell." He took the glasses off and handed them back to her. "It won't work. My face is too expressive."

"And you're a little tall."

* * *

Over dinner, Quinn complained to Helen, "Tell Daria she can't go to Brittany's party. My popularity is at stake."

Helen said, "Now, don't begrudge your sister a chance to expand her circle of friends."

"Maybe now she'll have two."

Momentarily impressed, Daria said, "Touché, Quinn."

Quinn said in frustration, "And don't think you're confusing me with that French. You should ground her because...her room is a mess!"

"If I go down for that one, I'm taking you with me."

"Wait, here's something worse. I asked her to do my homework for me, and she made me pay." After noticing the dirty looks from her parents, she added, "Never mind."

Helen smiled at the siblings. "I think it's great that you two are going to be spending time together. Dad and I would be happy to drive you to the party and pick you up."

Daria and Quinn said in unison, "No!"

As she got up to leave, Quinn said, "Thanks, but I'll find some other way to get there."

After Quinn was out of the room, Helen said, "Daria, I'd like it if you'd keep an eye on Quinn at this party."

"I don't know what I did, but it couldn't have been that bad."

John sat back and watched the exchange in mild amusement.

Helen proceeded with her case. "I mean it. And she doesn't have to know about it."

"Is this your way of acknowledging how much more mature and trustworthy I am?"

"It's my way of saying if you won't do it, I'm sending you both with a babysitter."

Jake perked up. "Hey, why don't we send John with to help?"

Helen stopped in confusion. "What?"

"Two eyes are better than one! Send John with to help keep an eye on Quinn. What do you say, there, John, my man?"

_Okay, this man is more oblivious than Trent is._ John kind of smiled and said, "Sure, I didn't have anything planned for Saturday." _You're setting me up for a date with Daria, how could I say no?_

Helen glared at Jake.

Jake grinned. "Okay, deal."

Helen's face sunk into her hand. "Jake."

* * *

"You know, babysitters are usually older than their charges," Daria said as she went upstairs with John.

Behind them, Helen's barely restrained voice said, "Jake, just what in the hell were you thinking about?"

John gave Daria a smirk. "Now, make sure you mind me. We don't want you getting into any trouble."

"Try that attitude again, and you'll need to have my boot surgically removed."

At the top of the stairs, John stopped. "I hope you don't mind that I agreed."

Daria suddenly felt shy. "I…guess not."

* * *

Immediately after getting back to the Morgendorffers' house after school on Friday, John changed into his running gear. He poked his head into Daria's open door. "I'm going for a run over to my old place. Hopefully, Mom will be there with Trent. We need to figure out what to do with everyone else's stuff."

Daria turned away from her computer to face him. "John, isn't it going to be awkward telling your mother that my parents have temporary custody?"

"Maybe, but I'm half-betting that Mom will give her butterfly speech."

"Butterfly?"

Imitating his mother's voice, John said, "You know, if you try to hold a butterfly tightly in your hand, it will die. You have to let it go, and if it comes back, it is truly yours…"

"If it doesn't come back, hunt it down and kill it?"

"Good one."

Daria gently put a hand on his shoulder. "Please be careful."

"What's there to worry about?"

"Trent…when we were moving your stuff, he made it clear to me that he didn't trust me."

"I thought he was friendly enough."

"It happened when we were the only ones in your room. He said he'd be watching me."

"Oh. He's being protective. He'll come around."

"I hope so."

"But, I'll be careful."

* * *

John kept to an easy pace during his jog. He noticed Trent's blue Plymouth out front. _One down._ He went inside and yelled, "Trent, Mom!"

Both entered the living room from the kitchen. Amanda Lane was in her late forties, with light brown hair, and an aura of peace around her. "John." She lovingly embraced her youngest son. "How are you?"

John returned the embrace. "Okay, considering."

"Oh, yeah. Trent said you were visiting a friend."

John steadied his temper. _Why does it seem like I'm the only adult around here?_ "Mom, Family Services is involved this time. A judge has granted the Morgendorffers temporary custody of me. I'm not visiting, I'm living with them. I don't have a choice."

"Oh, that's interesting. Are you enjoying yourself?"

_Don't you get it? _"Yes, they're nice people, and I've been better fed than I can remember. But, it isn't home."

Amanda looked around the room. "Well, this won't be home much longer. I never thought we'd stay here as long as we did."

"Mom, we still need to figure a place to move everyone's stuff."

"Oh, I know. Donna at the Ashfield colony has wanted me to stay for ages. We can take everything there."

John said, "Are you sure that's what she meant?"

"She'll understand."

"That's great. But, what about me?"

"There will be plenty of room for you."

Frustrated, he said, "Mom, didn't you listen? The Morgendorffers are my temporary guardians. I can't go with you."

"Oh, well then, I hope you can visit."

John dropped his head. "Fine, I'll try." _We wouldn't want you to._

Amanda clasped her hands together. "Wonderful."

Trent saw his brother's expression and pulled him to the side. "You know how Mom can be. But, I've got a plan."

John looked at Trent blankly. "A plan, yeah."

"When I talked to Nick's lawyer, he said we could fight for custody. I can be your guardian."

"Nick's lawyer?"

"Yeah."

"From his divorce?"

"Yeah."

"The one that cost Nick the shirt off his back?"

"Yeah…oh."

"I know you want to help…"

"Johnny, they're trying to take you away!"

"Trent, I've gone a mile down the road, and they haven't tried to stop me from coming here."

"Oh."

"Please, don't try to do anything yet. We need to deal with…" A hard realization hit John and he spun to face Amanda. "Crap! Mom, you can't stay here."

She innocently asked, "Why?"

"If Family Services finds out you're in town, they might arrest you!"

"Oh, like when your father and I were arrested during those protests years ago? Sounds like fun."

"No, it won't be fun. Mom…Oh, forget it." He turned to Trent. "Please, get her on the way to Ashfield as soon as you can."

"The band's got gigs all weekend. It'll have to be Monday."

"Damn. Mom, stay with your kiln. Don't go out and around. Trent, don't tell anyone Mom's in town."

"The kiln…did I leave it on?"

John sighed. "I turned it off for you."

"Thanks." Amanda smiled again and headed for the basement.

_No wonder I seem to get along with Mr. Morgendorffer. _"Um…Trent. Could I ask a favor?"

"Sure."

"Can you give me a ride to a party tomorrow, over at Crewe Neck?"

"Whoa. Bet they have good munchies. Sure thing."

"Thanks, swing by about five?" _I hope two hours lead is enough._

"I'm there."

"Cool. We better start getting this stuff packed."

"I bet we could use all those liquor boxes Old Man McGrundy throws out."

"Sounds good. We'll go get some now, and I'll come over tomorrow to start packing stuff. You get here…whenever."

* * *

Several hours later, it was starting to get dark and the air was turning chill. John set a fast past to keep himself warm, although the frustration helped with that. _Abandoned. It does feel like that. I know Mom loves me, but it's like I'm barely in her thoughts. Hell, sometimes, I wonder if she has thoughts._

John cranked up the pace a little more. _Did everyone else feel like this? Is that why they've scattered so far?_ Faster, he turned the corner onto Glen Oaks. _The Morgendorffers may be screwy…but they do feel like a family._ The red brick house came into view and John again sprinted the final distance. _I want to stay with both._

* * *

John spent much of Saturday at his old house, packing the family belongings with a little help from Amanda and Trent. Wind and Summer were called and they agreed to pick up their remaining belongings the next weekend. Penny was still out of worldly contact; her stuff would have to go to Ashfield. John took one look at the garage and said, "No way am I going in there. If I don't mention the garage, I bet nobody else will."

* * *

While John was gone, Helen entered Daria's room and said, "Can we talk?"

Daria looked up from the bed, where she was reading. "I haven't figured out a way to stop you."

"Daria, about your date tonight."

"Clearly a new definition of 'date' that hasn't made it into the OED yet."

"Daria, I saw how John's eyes lit up. He's attracted to you, and I'm sure he's looking at it that way."

"Mom, okay, maybe it is a date. Quinn goes on two or three a night. Do you lecture her?"

"Well, no. But…"

"But, she's not going out with someone who lives here?"

"She's…not going out with a person who means something to her. I'm not blind; I can tell John means something to you. That can bring on…very different temptations."

Daria sighed in exasperation. "Please don't start the puberty speech. Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Okay. I trust him. We're alone here for a couple hours every afternoon. We damn well know better than to try anything. He is paranoid of doing something wrong and getting sent away."

"True."

"Plus, at the party, we will be in the company of several dozen others."

"But, parties tend to generate an atmosphere of excess."

"Except for sarcasm, have you ever known me to do anything to excess?"

"No."

"Remember also, we're going there to watch Quinn. I'd never forgive myself if I didn't take every opportunity to embarrass her."

Helen groaned. "Daria."

"Mom. I promise not to let anything happen. Worst case, I learned to fend off the Debauched Duo of Highland. Remember?"

"I've never heard of somebody successfully using two cans of mace on different targets at the same time."

"Aversion therapy works. They never tried again after that."

* * *

Trent parked in front of the Morgendorffer residence at about 7:10 that evening. About a minute later, John and Daria came out and approached the car. Trent muttered, "I should've known he'd be going with her."

John opened the door for Daria. She cautiously entered and sat in the middle of the front seat, then John entered and closed the door. "Thanks, Trent."

Daria nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

Trent mumbled, "Hi."

Daria tried to start a conversation. "Uh…John said you two succeeded in packing most of your old house today."

"Yep."

"Do you have any plans on where you are taking it?"

"Yep."

Daria inwardly groaned. _I can see this is going nowhere._

The rest of the trip went in silence. Trent stopped outside the guard booth. "I have a problem dealing with authority. I'll let you off here."

John and Daria stepped out of the car. As Trent drove away, Daria said, "Nice conversation skills he has."

"He's got a lot on his mind. Um, I think you should know. I talked him out of trying to sue for custody."

"Custody? Where would he get money for a lawyer?"

"He didn't. He was going to use a free lawyer…who's not very good. That's why I talked him out of it. I didn't want any bad blood when he lost."

"Thanks. But it does confirm that…"

"He's worried about me. And confused. Give him time."

"If you say so."

"He's not a bad guy. Trust me?"

Daria sighed. "Deal."

She said to the waiting guard, "We're here for Brittany Taylor's party."

Bored, the guard looked at a clipboard. "Names?"

"Daria Morgendorffer."

After checking, the guard said, "Okay, and you? What's your name?"

"John Lane"

"Nope. Not on the list."

"I'm Daria's date."

"Well, Miss Taylor didn't remember to include your name."

Daria said, "Sir, how familiar are you with Miss Taylor?"

"So-so."

"Do you really think she has the capacity to remember all of the names of those coming to her party?"

"Hmm. You've got a point there. Well, Miss, you were on the list and a date makes sense, so go ahead."

Daria said, "Thank you."

A few minutes later, they were crossing the Taylors' front lawn. Daria looked uncertainly at the door. "You really want to do this?"

_Getting to be with you is making up for how much the last two days have sucked._ "You know, just because people are cliquey and snotty is no reason not to like them."

"Or hate them."

"Chin up, nose up, let's go."

Daria looked skyward in disbelief.

John grinned. "I've always wanted to say something like that."

The interior of the house looked like a demented attempt at an adventurer's club. Stuffed and ceramic wild animals were in great abundance. Brittany Taylor was an energetic girl with blond hair and highly noticeable proportions. "Daria, you're here, she squeaked. "I'm so glad. Now we're even!"

Underwhelmed, Daria said, "This is John. He wasn't invited."

"Oh, Daria! You found a date. Wow! Come on in!"

After that lukewarm welcome, the two were left by themselves. While they contemplated the relative merits of flat or ridged chips, a gawky, red-headed boy had approached Daria, but veered away when he noticed John. The same happened when two guys began to approach, one of which had a 'head too big for his body' look. Daria observed John from the corner of her eye. _He makes a good moron repellent. A definite plus._

As the evening progressed, Daria enjoyed following and tormenting Quinn, making sure the three boys she had arrived with knew they were sisters, and shared some special sibling memories with them while Quinn was in the bathroom. Daria even managed to make a few dollars in bribe money off of an increasingly exasperated Quinn.

John yawned. "Why don't we wander a bit before making an unfashionable exit? Quinn isn't as interesting as I thought she would be."

"Sure. We haven't poked around the house enough yet. Who knows what other animal sacrifices decorate this abode?"

"Now, you're talking."

Over time, they opened a door to find the laundry room. A laundry hamper was tipped and clothes scattered on the floor. Daria rubbed her temple. "Headache." She closed the door behind her and sighed in relief. The reduced noise eased her pain.

John looked at the door. "Daria, do you realize that this is the make-out room?"

"I don't care; it's quieter." Daria looked at John with concern. "Oh. Um…please don't get any ideas."

"Can I have the ideas if I don't act on them?"

Daria relaxed at the humor. "I suppose you can." She leaned against the washer and closed her eyes. John stayed a couple feet away and waited.

_It can't hurt._ He moved over and carefully put an arm around her. She stiffened at first touch, before relaxing and leaning slightly against him. They stayed like that for several minutes before the sounds of fighting erupted in the house.

Daria roused and pulled away. "That doesn't sound good."

John cracked the door open and peeked out. "It looks two of Quinn's dates are pounding each other."

"Somehow, I'm not surprised."

"That exit I mentioned earlier? Now may be a good time."

"Agreed."

The party's attention was diverted to the brawl between all three of Quinn's dates, Joey, Jamie and Jeffy. She sat on the stairs with a dreamlike grin on her face. "Guys, stop," she murmured.

John and Daria skirted around the crowd apparently unnoticed and made a quiet exit.

As they neared the guard booth, one of the residents was yelling at the Guard. "There's a wild party going on at Deerview Court! What are you going to do about it?"

The guard poked his head out. "About the same thing you could do on your own. Call the police. I'm not a real cop, you know. I've already turned away half a dozen kids trying to get in."

The man stormed away while the guard whistled and dialed. "Hey, Danny? Steve. Yeah, we got neighbors complaining about a party…Deerview Court…the Taylors' again…someone will be here in a few?…Thanks."

Daria nodded to the guard as they passed. "Couldn't help but overhear your call. Better ask for backup."

John cued in, "It's really getting out of hand. That's why we left."

The guard groaned. "Damn. Thanks. It's a pleasure to see some of you kids are still responsible."

* * *

John asked, "So, have fun?"

"Well, I didn't talk to a whole lot of new people, I made Quinn want to throw herself down a well, and we got extra cops called in to break up Quinn's riot." Daria cautiously moved her hand over to hold John's. "And you didn't try out any ideas. All in all, a great night."

John felt the warmth of her hand. _A great night._ A small tan sedan drove by and he said, "Wasn't the passenger in that car your sister?"

"Looked like it."

"What's she doing riding with Upchuck?"

"Who?"

"The redhead by the chips. Lawndale High's version of a small, leg-humping dog, and about as popular."

"I don't know, but it should be interesting finding out."

John looked down at their hands. "Uh-oh. If she saw this…"

Daria looked down. "Don't worry. One, threatening to tell Mom that her three dates beat each other up and she had to get a ride home from a fourth should keep her silence. Two, if this Upchuck is as unpopular as you claim, she'll never want word getting out she accepted a ride from him."

"Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"Three, Mom knows we like each other. I don't think she'll freak out if we hold hands, providing we otherwise behave."

* * *

Just before making the turn to get on Glen Oaks Drive, John stopped. "I have a question."

"Okay."

"Are…you the type to kiss on the first date?"

Daria's eyes flared in surprise. "I…um…no."

"Oh." John began to walk toward the house.

Daria stopped him. She had a mixture of reluctance and excitement crossing her face. "But, I would consider an invitation in to watch _Sick, Sad World_ a date. So, this isn't our first."

It took several seconds for the information to register. John leaned down and gently kissed her. She softly kissed him back. They lingered for several seconds with eyes closed.

John caught his breath. _Wow._

Daria blushed and stammered, "I…um…don't believe I just did that. But, I'm glad we did. But now, we better behave."

John walked beside her and inwardly beamed. _Life just got even more complicated. Why aren't I worried?_

* * *

Sunday morning, Vincent Lane paid the cab driver and hefted his luggage as he walked toward the front door of his home. As he reached the door, he heard a car in the driveway. Turning, he saw a police officer exiting a cruiser.

The officer said, "Vincent Lane?"

"Yes."

"Please stay where you are. You're under arrest for child abandonment."

Confused, Vincent stood still, smoke drifting up from his pipe. "Child abandonment?"

"Sir, please place the luggage on the ground and keep your hands where I can see them."

Vincent set the suitcases down and complied. The officer handcuffed him and removed the pipe. "Is your wife home?"

"I just got here; I don't know. What is all this?"

"I'm only serving the warrant. You can ask the D.A. for details."

As he put Vincent into the back of the car, Amanda opened the front door. "Hello?"

* * *

John placed the sketchbook down and took the phone from Daria. "Trent. What's wrong?"

Trent said, "They've been arrested."

"Crap! Dad, too?"

"Both of them. Look at what your girlfriend has done, now!"

"What?"

"If you hadn't gone over here, none of this would have happened."

"How was I supposed to know? We were already being evicted. Somebody would have figured it out. I thought I was getting us help."

"Some help."

Getting angry, John snapped, "If you hadn't misplaced the mail, we would have found that notice sooner and I could have forged Mom's signature on a check. Don't give me any of that."

"Maybe, but you made certain."

"Trent, get it through your head. I was abandoned! They haven't been home more than a few months each in the last three years."

Helen rushed into the living room from the kitchen. "What is going on here!"

John held a hand over the phone. "Mom and Dad were arrested."

"Oh."

He held still for a moment, gathering his thoughts and trying control his emotions. Back to the phone, John said, "Trent, can they get out on bail?"

"Not a chance. The judge wants a twenty G's each. Flight risk."

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean for anything like this to happen." He fell back on the sofa in frustration, clutching the phone tight to his ear. "I only thought I was helping. I don't want them in jail."

Trent calmed himself. "Dammit. I know. They really are at fault, too. I just hate to see this. They're not cut out for prison."

Helen said, "May I?"

John tentatively handed her the phone. She said, "Trent, this is Helen Morgendorffer. Do your parents have a lawyer?"

"They have a public defender."

"Okay. Don't do anything. I will make some contacts tomorrow to find out what the situation is. Promise me."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good."

After Helen turned off the phone, John croaked, "We have to get them out."

Helen said, "We would need to get Family Services to drop the charges. That's going to be hard with the facts in the case."

Daria said, "Is it possible for them to plea bargain in some way?"

"With what? The case against them is damn clear. Unless the D. A. or Family Services has a reason to bargain, they won't."

"I might have an idea," Daria said.

John breathed out and said, "Let's hear it."

"I…it may be hard for you and Trent."

"Tell me. That's my folks in jail. I know that they haven't been around much lately, but I still love them."

"You mentioned butterflies earlier."

"Yes…"

Daria swallowed. "In exchange for dropping charges and Trent not pressing his suit."

"I talked him out of that."

Helen responded immediately, "What suit?"

John told her, "Trent was thinking about suing you for custody. I talked him out of it."

Daria pressed her case. "The D. A. doesn't know. In exchange for that…" She swallowed again. "Your parents…agree to let you go."

In a raised whisper, John said, "What?"

"My parents become your permanent guardians. In the eyes of Family Services, you will end up in a secure home."

John looked down.

"From what I've heard from Mom and from what I've read, finding a solution without a trial is preferred. Hopefully, Family Services will be more concerned with your welfare than punishing your parents."

"But…"

"They'll still be your family, just not the one you live with."

"Daria…you're asking a lot."

"I know. However, you'll be able to see them at times other than visiting hours."

John sat still in thought.

"And…you can stay here." In a whisper she added, "Close to me."

John touched her hand. "You drive a hard bargain. Now, convince everyone else."

Helen watched them intently before saying, "Daria, that could work…if we can get everyone on board."

"I hope so."

Helen picked up the phone and went into the kitchen, where she read a number off of a note on the refrigerator. "I'm calling that Mrs. Collins from Family Services, to see if we can get her cooperation."

John sat back on the sofa. "Jail. I know they must look awful, but they're not. They're just…themselves. I've always been kind of afraid to find out, but I think Mom," He tapped his head, "isn't all there."

Daria looked at him for a minute before she put an arm around him. He leaned against her and rested his head on her shoulder.

After Daria brought her other arm around, John felt some of the tension ease away. He closed his eyes and just sat still.

Helen meanwhile finished her conversation with, "I'm glad you agree. It has been an adjustment for all of us, but he's a good kid. Thanks. Bye." After turning off the phone, she went back to the living room, but stopped when she saw the two teens. It looked like Daria had just gently kissed the top of John's head as he rested in her embrace.

_Oh, my! I need to be careful; she sincerely cares for this boy. _Helen felt apprehension at seeing Daria attracted to him, but she was also pleased that her daughter hadn't turned into the cold, walled-off girl Helen had feared she would.

_I haven't seen that tender look on her face since she was seven and rescued that baby bird. Even then, she knew how to do the right thing. She convinced Jake to ignore the old wife's tale and help her put it back in the nest. She watched that nest from her window until the chick was old enough to fly away._

Helen backed out of sight and intentionally kicked a cabinet before saying, "Dammit."

Daria gently shook John and whispered, "I think Mom's done on the phone."

John sat up and moved a couple inches away from her.

Helen started walking again and said, "Okay, we have the case-worker ready to help your plan. According to her investigation, it looks like the rest of your family isn't suitable, either."

John closed his eyes and shook his head. "Not really."

"I guess we have to convince Trent, next."

John got up from the sofa. "I better handle that. Besides, I'm the only one here that knows where Monique lives. I'll run over and…"

Helen waved a finger. "No. Jake will drive you over. I don't want you gone too long."

With a tilt of his head, John said, "Fine."

Helen went to Jake, who was sleeping on the remaining sofa section with Zachary purring on his stomach. Helen carefully moved the cat away and whispered, "It's for your own good." She then shook her husband. "Jake, wake up."

His eyes popped open and he jerked upright. "Sir! I…um…I didn't hear Reveille…I swear!"

"Jake…I'm not Corporal Ellenbogen."

"Helen?"

"Yes, Jake."

"Must have dozed off."

"Jake, can you please drive John over to see his brother? It's important."

Daria asked, "Can I go with?"

Helen half-rotated and commented, "You can be convincing when you want to be. Okay, but I will talk to you later."

"Thanks."

After they had left, Helen picked up John's sketchpad to look at the partially-finished portrait Daria had been posing for. _It looks like he feels the same for her._

* * *

Jake parked in front of the small apartment building on the south side of town. The building was modest and clean, featuring small units for singles and couples. John and Daria went to one of the doors and knocked.

A tall, slender woman with black hair and numerous piercings answered. "Hey, John. Sorry to hear about your folks."

"Hi, Monique. This is Daria."

"Little Johnny's new girlfriend."

Daria sighed.

John said, "This is Monique. Is Trent here?"

"He's not in a good mood."

"We're hoping to improve it."

"Cool. Even me trying," Monique stopped herself before going into any detail, "never mind. I haven't been able to cheer him at all."

Trent sullenly sat on the threadbare sofa in the apartment. Furniture was sparse, but musical instruments, equipment and posters filled much of the space. He looked up and mumbled, "Hey."

John squatted in front of his brother. "Trent, we have a plan to get Mom and Dad out of jail, but we need your help. Please listen."

"I'm all out of ideas. Shoot."

Daria carefully explained the plan to Trent. He started to get agitated, but he calmed down as she explained. When Daria was done, he scratched his chin. "You say Johnny won't be stopped from seeing them or me?"

"That's what we want to work out."

"And you think this can get Mom and Dad out of trouble?"

"I hope so."

Trent looked at his brother. "I have to admit, the skinny little runt has packed on some weight already."

Daria pressed the point. "Trent, what'll be changed is his legal status. John will always be your brother. He still loves you. He's not going anywhere and, with luck, this gets the charges against your parents dropped."

"All this was your idea? To help our folks."

"Yes."

Trent viewed Daria in a new light. "You're pretty cool, for a high schooler."

Relieved, she said, "Thanks."

* * *

"Mo-om, I know you sent them to keep an eye on me at the party." Quinn faced her mother, who was sitting at the kitchen table.

Helen concentrated on her coffee; she already had enough on her mind.

"Well?"

Exasperated, she replied, "Yes, Quinn. I did."

"They didn't do a good job of it."

"Quinn, since when have you been worried about how well you were supervised?"

"Mo-om! They hung out in the make-out room and left when that big fight started. I had to find a way home by myself." Quinn shuddered. "Ugh, that Charles was so gross."

Helen looked up and set her teeth firmly together. "Did you say 'make-out room'?"

"It was really the laundry room, but that's what it was being used for…so I was told."

"Did you say a fight?"

"Yeah, a bunch of football players got in a fight and the police were called in. It was very traumatic."

Helen digested the information. "I'll have to talk to Daria, later."

"Good. She and that boyfriend of hers need a good talking-to."

"Quinn…why did you need a way home?"

"Because…" Quinn closed her eyes in frustration.

"Was your ride home involved in this fight?"

"I…ah…um…yeah."

"I see. Now, tell me the rest of what happened."

* * *

Jake's voice announced their return. "I wrote a song once, back in military school."

Helen inwardly groaned. _Oh, God._

His voice rose. "But, no! It wasn't good enough. As if songwriting started and…"

John interrupted. "You haven't heard _Icebox Woman_. I'm sure your song was better."

"Really? I'll have to see if I can find it for you."

"Sure, whenever you have time."

Jake jogged up the stairs. "I think I know where it's still at."

Daria looked up the stairs. "John, you may have created a monster."

"Oh, well." John looked back to the living room. "Trent likes the plan."

Helen walked over with a stern expression. "Good. Daria, I want to speak with you, now."

John sidestepped Helen's approach. "I'll…go raid the 'fridge."

Helen led her to Daria's room and closed the door. Turning, she said, "What's this about a make-out room at that party?"

"Mom?"

"Start talking."

With a sigh, Daria said, "We found the laundry room and I closed to door to get some quiet; I had a headache. John reminded me it was the make-out room."

Helen's eyes opened wider.

"Before you ask, the only thing he did was put his arm around me."

"Is that all?"

"Yes." _This looks like a time for pre-emptive information._ "One the way home from the party…" Daria felt her cheeks warm with a blush. "…we kissed. Once."

"We'll deal with that in a minute. Now, what about this fight?"

_Quinn. You will pay._ Daria's faced hardened. "Quinn's three…yes, three…dates got into a fight. While she sat on the stairs, watching and grinning like an idiot. John and I decided to leave and walk home."

"Quinn and I have already discussed that little aspect of her evening, don't worry."

_Sounds like Quinn opened her mouth a little too much. I'll have to remember not to give her as much credit for self-preservation._

Helen's mood turned blacker. "Let me understand correctly. You left her there? When you knew that a fight was going on."

Daria looked down. "Yes."

"Daria, I asked you to watch her. Walking away at the first sign of trouble is not what you were supposed to do. I'm very disappointed. Yes, I do expect you to be more responsible than your sister."

Daria frowned. "You got me there. I…damn." Daria's face scrunched in anticipation. "I wanted to walk alone with John."

"I wondered." New firmness entered Helen's voice. "I need to know, did John coerce you in any way?"

Daria shook her head. "No. He asked if he could kiss me. I said yes." Daria felt the blush returning. "Because I wanted to."

Helen put both hands on her daughter's shoulders. "Daria. I'm serious. Be careful. Despite your maturity otherwise, you're moving into completely new territory here."

"Mom, I think…"

"Daria. It's very easy, even for someone as intelligent and mature as you, to let emotions overrule clear thought in situations like this. You may find yourself not thinking."

"What about Quinn? She's going out all the…"

"Quinn is going out to be seen with arm candy. Those boys don't mean anything to her. But, I'm worried about her, too. Especially after this party."

"Mom, still. It was one, count it, one, kiss."

"I heard what you whispered to John, about staying close to you."

Daria looked down. "I was afraid you would. But, I wanted to reassure him."

"And, I saw how you looked, comforting John earlier today. He obviously means a lot to you. I also saw how he looked at you while working on that portrait. You mean a lot to him. That adds an emotional level that you haven't dealt with before."

"Mom, I…yes. I'm aware of some very new feelings for me. They are confusing at times. But the thought that John could get sent away scares me more. That keeps a lid on things."

"Daria, if your plan goes through, we won't be able to do that. Your father and I will be responsible for him. What then? I may need to reconsider your idea, in light of this new information."

Daria didn't have an answer.

Helen pulled her into an embrace. "You're not quite sixteen and more mature than most of the adults I work with. However, I know…" Her voiced dropped briefly. "…from experience…that emotions can overrule thinking. The boy you find attractive is living only one room down the hall. You're facing a level of temptation few ever deal with. Yes, I'm worried."

Daria considered the situation and ran many different possible outcomes through her mind. She hesitantly moved her arms around her mother's waist. "Mom, even though the thought of being…intimate…with someone scares the hell out of me, I…wouldn't mind some help with this. He does mean a lot to me. Please let him stay."

* * *

"Come in!" John called to the knock on the door. He looked over to see Helen enter. _She just spent a lot of time with Daria. This may be bad._ He cleaned his brush and set his palette down carefully.

Helen said, "John, we need to talk about last night."

"Mrs. Morgendorffer, it was all my idea. I…"

"Daria filled me in. But, she was a willing participant."

John looked around the room. _Way to blow it, Lane._ He felt sick to his stomach. "I'll start packing my stuff." He moved to get his suitcase.

Helen stopped him. "Not yet."

He looked at her expectantly.

"I'm going to take a huge risk on you and still try for the plea bargain to help your parents."

John visibly relaxed, but stood still, incredulous.

"I've seen that you are mostly a good young man. I cannot deny the attraction between you and Daria, and damn well know that trying to keep you apart will make matters worse. So, here's the deal."

* * *

Already dressed for school the next day, John waited for Daria to exit her room. "Morning."

"Morning," she said as she exited, also ready for school.

They both went downstairs, where a disconsolate Quinn waited at the kitchen table. Jake was hidden behind the paper and Helen was eating a bagel at the counter. They exchanged greetings with Jake and Helen, while Quinn stayed utterly silent. Each poured a bowl of cereal, sat at the table and began eating.

Helen kissed both girls and said, "Have a good day. John, I'll be meeting with Family Services today, and hopefully discuss things with your parents. Good bye."

"Good luck Mrs. Morgendorffer," John said in return.

Several minutes later, John and Daria picked up their backpacks and Daria said, "Okay, Quinn. Let's go."

Quinn pulled her long, red hair up under a cap and donned dark sunglasses. After picking up her backpack, she said, "Let's go. If I'm lucky, nobody will recognize me."

John and Daria allowed Quinn the lead as they walked to school. Daria whispered to John, "I wonder how long it will take anyone to realize that the girl in shades walking to school with us every day wears the same clothes as Quinn."

John chuckled. "With some of her friends, it could take a while."

Quinn complained, "Do you two have to walk so close?"

Daria said, "Yes, Quinn. That's the deal. We have to keep you under surveillance on the way to school. You go straight to your new babysitting job with the Guptys' after school."

Quinn produced a grim smile. "At least I'm not the only one."

Daria looked at John. "The price I'm paying to be with you."

He looked back. "The price I'm paying."

* * *

After school, Daria stood outside a door to one of the Lawndale High rooms. _After my experience in Highland, I swore I would never do this again._

She gritted her teeth and went inside. Several students were gathered around tables, and Jodie Landon was sitting at a desk. Daria walked up to her. "I'd like to sign up to work on the school paper."

* * *

John stopped outside another office door. _This is going to suck. But, it beats the alternative._

He knocked on the door. A woman's voice called, "Enter."

He walked in and said to the brunette woman inside. "Coach Morris, I'd like to sign up for fall track training."

* * *

Helen sat in the meeting room with Mrs. Collins. Next to her was the Lanes' Public Defender, Mr. James, a rotund man with black hair and a worn suit. At the far end of the large table was an Assistant District Attorney, Mr. Everett, a distinguished looking man in his fifties.

The Lanes, dressed in baggy orange jumpsuits, were brought into the room and seated in between. Vincent studied the room with unease. Amanda was visibly frightened and looked like she hadn't slept since her arrest.

"Now that we're all here," said Mr. Everett, "let's start the meeting. Mr. and Mrs. Lane, your counsel and a representative from Family Services would like to discuss a possible plea bargain with you. I'm going to step out of the room, so please let me know when you reach a decision." He nodded to all and left the room.

Mr. James spoke to the Lanes. "Amanda, Vincent. This is Mrs. Collins, the Family Services representative who handled your son's case. The other lady is Mrs. Morgendorffer, who, with her husband, has been granted temporary custody of John."

Vincent nodded to them.

In an incongruously calm voice, Amanda asked, "How is John?"

Helen said, "He's doing well."

"Oh, that's good. I hope he hasn't been a bother."

"Nothing I haven't been able to handle."

Vincent said, "I still want to know why we're here. John was left in the care of his adult brother, Trent. He was never abandoned. Our occupations require frequent and lengthy travel."

Mrs. Collins said, "John was not being supervised or fed properly. Are you suggesting that we should arrest Trent Lane instead?"

"No, I…" He looked around. "…don't want that."

Mr. James said, "We are preparing a deal. If you plead to a misdemeanor Child Neglect charge, with time served…" He looked at Helen. "…and sign guardianship of John Lane over to Helen and Jake Morgendorffer, the felony charges will be dismissed."

Vincent said, "Why should we do that?"

"As your counsel, I'm giving you my advice. Unless you have an utterly brain-dead jury, you will be convicted and John will be assigned to foster care or a group home anyway."

Mrs. Collins stepped in. "Mr. and Mrs. Lane, pending a judge's approval, the agreement will have no restriction on visitation rights. However, John's welfare will become the Morgendorffers' responsibility, not yours. Right now, his welfare is my primary concern."

Vincent shook his head. "How can you do this?"

"Because the D. A. is being very generous," Mr. James said.

"Was Trent doing that poorly of a job?"

Helen said, "He tried, but yes. Trent is a good brother, but not a good parent."

Vincent pounded the table, "Damn it all!"

Amanda jumped up at the sound and shrieked. Vincent followed and held her. "It's okay."

Amanda's eyes were pleading as she whimpered, "Get me out of here! I'm scared. They're mean."

Vincent held his wife and sat her down. "Take it easy."

"I don't want to go back there!" Amanda sobbed onto her husband's shoulder.

Vincent held his distraught wife until she settled down. He whispered, "Wait here."

Vincent moved over close to the others and said in a low voice, "Amanda has always been fragile, and she isn't taking things well. This is one horrible choice you're giving us, to allow my wife's psyche to be destroyed in prison or let our son go. Can't you keep John in the family? Have him stay with one of our other children?"

Mrs. Collins consulted a sheet of paper. "As I told Mrs. Morgendorffer when she proposed this deal, I'd already investigated your family, looking for a permanent home for John. Your son Wind is wanted for bigamy in two states. Your daughter Summer has been investigated by child protection agencies in three states, and currently two of her four children are listed as runaways. Daughter Penny's whereabouts are unknown, possibly in Nicaragua. Son Trent is underemployed and living with his girlfriend in an efficiency apartment with nowhere near the financial capacity to support a third party. His paternal grandmother outright refused custody, and his maternal grandparents are dead."

Vincent dropped his head to the table. "Do any of you know how expensive it is to raise five children?" He looked up. "We were so far in debt; when Trent turned eighteen, we started taking every job we could, no matter where it was. We thought, with him at home to watch John, things would be okay." He dropped his head again. "We really haven't been good parents, have we? Maybe we were just running away."

Amanda quietly joined them, an odd look of peace in her eyes. "We love John." She looked down at her cupped hands, resting on the table. "But, we made mistakes." She opened them again. "So, we must let him go." A tear rolled down her cheek.

Vincent looked into his wife's eyes, and then at her hands. "We agree."

* * *

"It helps to imagine my track spikes landing on Ms. Morris's backside with each step." John's hair was still wet from his after-practice shower as he held hands with Daria on the way home from their after-school activities.

"I'll have to remember that. At my end, I had to ask Jodie, 'Do you really want me talking to the public as an official representative of the paper?' She quickly agreed to let me write a column instead of doing any actual reporting."

"Good one."

Daria shook her head. "Talk about your unintended consequences."

"Yeah, who would've thought a simple kiss would lead to extracurricular activities?"

"Wholesome ones, that is."

"This certainly isn't giving us time for 'unwholesome' ones."

"John, I'm a little glad for that. Mom was right; we could have done things…without thinking."

"I can deal with having to wait. I'll admit that running helps to wear off some frustration. As long as I can still have ideas."

She gave him a slim smile. "So will I." Looking ahead, she saw both cars in the driveway. "I see Mom and Dad are home. This could be good or bad. Better be prepared." Daria looked around. After seeing nobody visible, she quickly gave John a kiss. "For luck."

"You better not turn out to be my long-lost sister." He kissed her back. "Thanks."

They continued and entered the house. John smiled with pleasure to see his parents sitting in the living room with Jake and Helen. "Mom, Dad."

Helen was on her cell phone. "I'm sorry, Susan. We can't make it over tonight…It's a long story…Yes, I'm sure Ramona misses seeing everyone…Bye."

Amanda and Vincent came to him, Amanda giving him a hug. "I'm sorry, John."

Vincent laid a hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't easy, but we accepted the deal. This weekend, we'll take everything to Ashfield, to live there. You'll stay with Jake and Helen. We think you'll be better off. I'm sorry we weren't there for you."

John was relieved and disappointed. "I'm glad you're out of jail. I just wish it never had to come to this."

Amanda held his cheeks in her hands. "We'll come back to see you. We're still yours."

"I'm still yours."

Amanda looked at Daria. "Hi."

She said, "Hi, Mrs. Lane. Too bad we couldn't have met under better circumstances."

"We met the way we were meant to, and my youngest butterfly has a new home."

* * *

After saying goodnight to everyone, John closed the door and stuffed a towel along the bottom edge of the door to prevent any light from shining out of his room. His muse was kicking, and he knew better than to deny it. He set up a fresh canvas and prepared his palette.

In the dim hours of the morning, he cleaned his brush and stepped back. In the darkness, a butterfly rested on a slender branch, illuminated by a shaft of light from the rising sun.

He heard a soft knock on the door. _Shoot._ He quietly opened it.

Daria was outside, wearing one of her t-shirt-and-shorts combinations for sleeping. Her hair was mussed and uncombed. "Are you okay?" she asked.

John stepped back to let her in. "Yes. Just doing some painting."

She looked at the painting and understood. "That's beautiful."

John moved his arm around her. "So is life."

* * *

Dialog from:

_Esteemsters_ by Glenn Eichler  
_The Invitation_ by Anne D. Bernstein  
_The Road Worrier_ by Anne D. Bernstein  
_Lane Miserables_ by Anne D. Bernstein  
_One J at a Time_ by Ron Corcillo and A.J. Pouli

Based on transcripts available at Outpost Daria.

Diary quote from _The Daria Diaries _by Anne D. Bernstein.

January 2005

Thanks to The Angst Guy, Kristen Bealer, and ipswichfan for beta reading.


	2. Can I Just Have The Coffee?

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the second John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Can I Just Have The Coffee?**

Mr. O'Neill addressed his second period Language Arts students. "Class, I thought we'd take a break from the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet and discuss the real-life tragedy that happened here in Lawndale. Let's share our feelings of violation following the loss of Lawndale's cybercafé: alt-dot-Lawndale-dot-com. Who would like to start? Charles? Charles, did you hear me?"

Lawndale High's Star quarterback and poster child for cranial trauma Kevin Thompson looked at him in moderate confusion. "You mean, Kevin?"

John Lane inwardly smirked. _That is so sad, when Kevin has to correct you._

Mr. O'Neill shuffled his seating charts. "Kevin, I'm sorry. You, uh, look like somebody else. What do you have to say about last night's horrible event?"

"I was home all night. You can ask my parents. Besides, I already have a computer."

_For a door stop._

"No Kevin, I mean how did it make you feel?"

"Um, sad?"

_How do you think the computer feels?_

"Are you asking me or telling me?" asked Mr. O'Neill.

"Angry?"

O'Neill turned to a girl in the front row. "Hmmm...Jodie, how about you?"

Jodie Landon politely responded, "I think the cybercafé served one very particular segment of the community. But it still pisses me off when people take what isn't theirs."

Kevin lit up. "That's how I feel!"

Mr. O'Neill wearily said, "Thank you, Kevin." In a normal voice, he continued, "About that word, community. Isn't that the whole idea of a cybercafé? To jack us in to the global community? What's most disturbing about this crime is the symbolism involved. Don't you agree, John?"

John cocked one eyebrow. "No."

Mr. O'Neill spoke with increasing excitement. "Suddenly we're cut off. We can't hail our friends across the globe and say, 'It's a beautiful day in the cyberhood.' They didn't just take a few computers. They took a symbol of our virtual community. To visit alt-dot-Lawndale-dot-com was to come together with the planet!"

To John's left, Daria Morgendorffer said in mild disgust, "Oh, come on."

_And, we're off…_

"Yes?"

"Come together with the planet? By staring at a screen for hours? Sitting in a room full of people you never say a word to?"

Mr. O'Neill gazed at one of his charts before saying, "Interesting point, Dorian."

"Daria."

Mr. O'Neill slapped a spider on the chart, splattering it over the document and obscuring several names as he wiped the remains off on the paper. "Damn spiders. Daria. You believe that while connecting Lawndale citizens with global neighbors, the cafe was alienating us from each other."

Her exasperation increasing, Daria said, "I'm saying if you really miss the place, put a Mr. Coffee in the computer lab."

"So, in your opinion, what we really need is a return to the traditional coffee house of yore, where you'd watch some performers and share a cup with your friends face to face."

John leaned left. "Are you having visions again?"

Mr. O'Neill beamed at the entire class and gestured toward Daria. "Right here and now, let's pledge to make Daria's dream a reality."

Daria sarcastically said, "You mean the one where people walking down the street burst into flames?"

"The coffee house! We'll plan it, locate it, raise money for it, and open it!"

"Would this qualify as an extracurricular activity?"

"Of course."

Daria sighed. "I have an excuse. I'm already in one."

* * *

That evening, Jake Morgendorffer sat at the kitchen table, reading the paper while Daria sat to his right, also reading, and John sat to the left, sketching.

Helen Morgendorffer walked past from the sliding glass door toward the living room and the stairs. "Hi! Gotta change: dinner meeting."

Jake leaned toward Daria. "Did something happen?"

Daria said, "Hmm...depends on your perspective."

John added, "Or lack thereof."

Daria's sister Quinn also quickly walked by. "Hi! No dinner for me! Emergency meeting of the Fashion Club!"

Daria briefly looked up and said, "I'll make up a nice plate for you and cover it up with cling wrap."

"That was Quinn," Jake observed.

"Yes, but you still haven't identified our first mystery guest."

Helen returned. "Dammit. I just called Eric for directions and he said the dinner's canceled. Well, that just gives us a chance for a family dinner."

Daria nodded. "I'll throw another steak on the grill."

John said, "Don't you think you should kill it first?"

"Where's the challenge in that?"

Quinn rushed by on her way back out of the house. Helen looked at her receding form and asked, "Where's she going?"

Daria replied, "Emergency meeting of the Fashion Club. Someone woke up with frosted hair."

John set his sketchbook down. "Or was that hairy frost?"

Helen sat next to her daughter. "Which reminds me: how's your work with the school paper going?"

"Can't talk now, I'm reporting on a meeting of the Rusting Quietly Club."

"You should be taking this more seriously. When you apply to college, they'll be looking for your extracurricular accomplishments. Right Jake?"

"Hmm?"

Daria shook her head. "They're going to be looking to see whether we can pay for school. This might be a good time to talk about setting up a couple trusts. You do have somebody else around who may want to go to college."

John couldn't resist. "Yeah, studying in France could get expensive. And those art schools never care what kind of volunteer work you do; they only want to see your portfolio and your checkbook."

Helen noticed John. "Oh…oh. But, that doesn't apply across the board." She turned back to Daria. "Liberal arts colleges like to see well-rounded students with a good extracurricular record."

Daria sighed. "Mom, I write a column each week. Somebody gets offended and writes a letter. A tiny spark of interest is shown by the student body before it is snuffed out by the stifling indifference of everyone else. I certainly hope I don't have to make a living at this."

"Oh, Daria." Giving up, Helen turned to John. "So, how is your after-school activity going?"

"I run, I sweat, I shower."

Daria said, "I wonder what that would sound like in Latin?"

"No competitions yet?"

"Not until spring. Fall is just training."

"Oh. Well, then. I better start on dinner."

Helen walked into the kitchen and John leaned across the table and whispered, "I was hoping you were serious about putting a steak on the grill. How much lasagna are we expected to eat?"

Daria looked carefully to see both parents were distracted, and squeezed his hand. "Sorry about that. It's the Curse of the House of Morgendorffer."

He squeezed her hand in return before releasing. "At least it's an improvement over ramen noodles, dry."

Jake looked around. "Where's Quinn?"

* * *

John and Daria sat on his bed, watching _Sick, Sad World_. She turned and said, "I'm starting to see an advantage to having one extracurricular."

"Oh?"

"Mom was about to charge into one of her 'you need to get more involved to get into a good college' rants. Those can be scary, and normally result in me forced into something I'd rather not do."

John looked incredulous. "You? Forced?"

"She's good. When she puts her mind to it, she's very good."

"Oh, I suppose that does come with being a lawyer."

"Yeah. Anyway, having one activity to talk about derailed the whole process. If I play this right, I could save myself a lot of grief over the next three years."

"Okay, good for you. You're not sweating like a pig for Ms. Morris. Or having to listen to her bitching."

"I could try to see if the _Lowdown_ needs a new cartoonist."

John shook his head. "You know your Mom will never go for us being in the same extracurricular activity."

Daria sighed. "You're right; with her paranoia about other extracurricular activities, she'd never go for it."

John looked at the fully open door. "I have to admit, she does have a good reason."

"Yeah. Having a live-in boyfriend at fifteen does present some…interesting temptations."

"Almost sixteen."

She smiled. "Okay, almost sixteen."

"While I still have to wait until next March." He briefly leaned against her. "I guess I have a thing for older women."

* * *

As English class was letting out a couple days later, Mr. O'Neill stopped Daria. "I hope you're going to help with the coffee house project."

"Why would I do that?"

"It was your idea."

"No. It was your deluded misinterpretation."

"So, you're not interested?"

"Correct."

"But, I thought a reading or two of your writings would go over well. Maybe the one about being a big misfit whom everybody hates? I bet the other students would really get into that. I know I did."

"That one compares the sophomore class, by name, to barnyard animals. That would make me hated even more."

"Oh, yeah."

Daria looked at him harder. "Mr. O'Neill: no."

"Okay, okay. Would you be interested in the fundraising end?"

"I'm not prostituting chocolate bars for the school, either."

"But…"

"No."

"But, Daria. I think you…"

"How about if I tell Ms. Barch that you wouldn't take 'no' for an answer?"

"Eep!"

John joined her as she left the room. "I like a woman who can stand up for herself. But, don't you think threatening him with Barch was a bit excessive?" John shivered.

"She would squash him like a bug."

"That's what I'm afraid of. Can you imagine what Li would find to replace him?"

"It could only be an improvement."

"You haven't seen much of the substitute pool around here."

* * *

Helen looked up from the sofa as Quinn entered the house. "Young lady, where have you been? You were supposed to come straight home after you finished babysitting for the Guptys."

"Mo-om. You wanted me to get more involved in school. I was selling phone cards for the new student coffee house."

"Coffee house?"

"Some stupid idea of Daria's that Mr. O'Neill picked up on."

"Daria didn't mention anything about it."

"Like she ever tells you anything?"

"Like you do?"

"I…never mind."

"Tell me about this coffee house."

"It's supposed to be where that nasty old cybercafé was at."

"Oh, that's just a couple buildings down from the office."

Quinn's mouth formed a sly smile. "From what I understand, Daria's going to be reading some of her stuff on opening night."

Helen's eyes brightened. "You don't say! Jake and I will have to be there to see it." Helen looked off in the distance. "I remember the old Middleton coffee shop."

"Mom, you're not…"

Helen became dreamy-eyed. "They had some of the most talented poets reading there. And the essays…oh, the essays. Those people held to the core of the movement. They inspired so many."

"Mom?" Quinn waved her hand in front of Helen.

Helen didn't respond, but said, "The folk singers, I miss them so much."

Quinn quietly stepped to the side. When it was clear Helen wasn't tracking her, Quinn made a hasty retreat up the stairs. She noticed Daria reclining on John's bed, writing, while he painted at his easel. She smirked and rushed past to her room.

* * *

Daria entered the kitchen in time to see John stagger out of the downstairs bathroom. He looked at her and said, "Mornings. Who the hell thought they were a good idea?"

She shook her head. "I wasn't in on it."

Jake, Helen and Quinn were sitting at the table. John began pouring coffee for himself while Daria buttered some toast that Helen had prepared. Daria poured a glass of milk and looked between the crowded table and the open counter top. She nodded at the stools and John took a seat at the counter.

Helen finished her breakfast and came over. "Daria, I'm so happy to hear about you and that coffee house."

Daria looked up. "What?"

"Helping that Mr. O'Neill set up a student coffee house and performing for opening night."

Daria registered momentary confusion before she looked at Quinn, who was conveniently looking out the window. "Um…yeah."

"I'm going to make sure we're both there to see it."

"Swell."

"But, why didn't you tell me? You know how much I want to see you participate. I had to hear about this from Quinn."

Daria noticed a wince from her sister at that. "Mom, I wanted it to be a surprise."

Helen hugged Daria. "Oh, Sweetie!" She noticed the clock and grabbed her briefcase. "Oh, my! I'm running late. I'll get the details from you tonight. I'm so proud of you."

As Helen raced out the door, Daria's head dropped to the table. "Dammit."

* * *

Over lunch, Daria said to John, "Thanks for restraining me on the way to school this morning."

"Hey, no problem. Your sister really isn't worth the jail time."

"That's true. But I still have to deal with the immediate problem."

"Hey, how bad can it be? Stand up, read something, and bail afterward."

"Well, there's the whole standing up in front of everyone part. Then there's the reading part. The bailing afterward I think I'd rather handle first."

"Coward."

"Cluck, cluck."

"Okay, Quinn maneuvered to get you into this; we just need to get even."

"For that, I blame you."

"Me?"

"If I wasn't…distracted, I could have prevented it."

"Excuse me for getting pulled out of my childhood home and forced to live with the most fascinating girl I've ever met."

After a sigh, she said, "Okay, blame isn't getting us anywhere. I need to figure out a way to use this to our advantage."

"Too bad you can't just combine this with the paper duty."

Daria produced a small smile. "But, I think I can. 'A Performer's View of the New Student Coffee House.' How's that sound for my next column?"

He smiled. "Therefore effectively keeping you at exactly one extracurricular activity for the week."

"Precisely."

* * *

Immediately after school, Daria stopped by Mr. O'Neill's room. The teacher looked up and said, "Yes, Daria."

"Mr. O'Neill, do you mind if I reconsider performing at the coffee house?"

He clapped his hands together in elation. "Of course not! I'm so happy that you decided to come out of your shell a little."

"Well, um. Okay."

"If you don't mind my asking, why the change of heart?"

"Oh, my sister, Quinn, talked me into it."

"Quinn…Quinn. Oh, Quinn Morgendorffer? I suppose that she would be your sister, what with the same last name and all."

"That might be a clue. It would mean a lot if you could thank her in class."

"Oh, I'll make sure of it."

Daria briefly smiled. "Thanks."

"See you tomorrow at seven!"

"Yeah. Seven."

She went straight to the newspaper room and said to Jodie Landon, "I changed my mind. I'll be doing something on the coffee house opening for my next column."

"I thought you were trying to avoid that place."

"It's a long story."

* * *

Daria sat on the floor of her room, sorting through notebooks while John lay prone on the bed.

Daria looked at one book. "How about, 'The Bleakness that Lies Ahead?'"

John shook his head. "Too sunshiny."

Daria flipped through the book more. "No Life, No Hope, No Future?"

"Too optimistic."

After looking in another book, she asked, "Mommy's Little Hypocrite?"

"Sounds like a public service announcement."

"I wish I were dead."

John sat up. "Now that sounds promising. Listen, you gotta give them something they'll really appreciate. Picture Kevin and Brittany soaking up your words like a sponge. Heady, potent, provocative."

"And watch their heads explode? That has possibilities, but I'm going to have to write something new for the occasion."

* * *

Mr. O'Neill checked the clock and knew he had only a few moments before the bell. His freshman English class was already packing and preparing to bolt for the door. "Don't forget the coffee house opening tonight. Some of our finest student creators and performers will be pouring their hearts out for you."

A few non-committal comments rose from the students.

"Oh, yes. I want to personally thank Quinn Morgendorffer for convincing her sister, Daria, to be one of tonight's star performers. A big hand for Quinn and her sister."

Scattered clapping was the general response. Sandi Griffin leaned forward to speak to Quinn. "A sister? What sister?"

Quinn looked around in panic. "I…um…er…"

Sandi looked at Tiffany Blum-Deckler and Stacy Rowe. "I think someone with a sister as cute as Quinn deserves strong consideration for membership in the Fashion Club. What do you say?"

Tiffany said, "Sure."

Stacy nodded. "Of course. This could be so much fun."

Quinn dropped her head onto her desk. "Yeah, fun."

* * *

Daria looked at the empty driveway and said to John. "Is it too much to ask that they forgot?"

Walking beside her, he said, "Or are still at work."

"Okay, that is the more likely scenario."

They went inside and Daria checked the answering machine.

_Beep_

Helen's voice said, "Daria, I'm so sorry I can't make it tonight. Eric arranged a business dinner with a major new client and forgot to tell anyone until this afternoon. Have fun. Bye."

_Beep_

_Beep_

Jake's voice said, "Hey, Kiddo. Got a lead on a great prospect and will be with him tonight. Tell your Mom I won't be home for dinner. There was something else for tonight I was supposed to remember, what was it? Hmm. Don't tell me, I know this one. Wait! I really do, I know it's important. Okay, just give me a…"

_Beep_

Daria's gaze went upward. "There are times you can almost believe in divine intervention."

"Or that your parents are workaholics."

Daria shrugged. "Or that." She picked up the phone and hit a speed-dial button. "How does pepperoni and sausage sound for toppings?"

"A lot better than lasagna. I'm in."

* * *

After hearing Kevin and Brittany's botched Shakespeare, a singer that made Mystik Spiral sound like the Doors, and Andrea's poetry, the crowd listened, enraptured, as Daria finished her story.

"As Melody sun-bathed on the Rio beach, she looked back over the last few days with a certain quiet satisfaction: twelve dead Russians, five dead Chinese, and three or four dead Cubans. The world was once again safe for democracy, she reflected, while watching Tonio's exquisite chest rise and fall with his light snoring. Safe for democracy, or almost safe.

Melody brushed some errant grains of sand from her fingers, tied her top back on and reached into her beach bag. Tonio heard nothing and that was a pity, because he would never hear anything again. _So long Tonio_, she thought as she calmly stood up. _I could have loved you if you weren't as red as the blood stain now spreading across the sand._

Melody walked calmly away to the hotel. There would be a message there from HQ, no doubt. She hoped she had time to shower."

Much of the football team jumped up, pumping their fists and shouting. Kevin yelled above the din, "We need to get them Russians!"

Louder affirmative shouts rose from the players as they charged out the door. John followed at a modest distance and watched the team's increased animation. From within the team came shouts of "Kill the commies!" "Get the bastards!" "Let's stone the embassy!"

At the latter comment, the team stopped for a second as they all looked at each other. Their eyes brightened and they screamed, "Hell yeah!"

John looked down North Street and grinned evilly. He jumped up and down before pointing down the road. "Go! Go! Go!"

The group of football players yelled, "Go!" in unison and stormed away.

John leaned against the building wall and chuckled. "Sometimes, that is just too easy."

Daria looked down the road at the departed group. "I wonder how long before they figure out that there isn't a Russian embassy in town."

John shrugged. "Who cares?"

"What is down that way?"

"Mr. O'Neill's apartment. I looked it up in the phone book one time when I considered painting a dead body on the sidewalk in front as a 'daydream I'd like to come true' during one of my runs through self-esteem class."

She gave him a brief kiss. "I like the way you think."

* * *

The next morning, Jake and Daria were reading the paper. John sat nearby, sketching, and Quinn quietly ate her breakfast.

Jake read from the paper, "'Cafe Lawndale closed until further notice.' Isn't that the coffee house you were working for?"

"Yeah."

Jake read further. "'School officials decided to close their new young adult coffeehouse after their opening night somehow turned into an anti-communist rally. "Some unscheduled propaganda went on and some students reacted too favorably," explained coffee house director Timothy O'Neill, a teacher at Lawndale High.'"

Helen breezed past the group on her way out of the house. "Breakfast meeting at the Royalton's."

Daria watched her head away. "But you haven't even tasted my soufflé."

Still reading, Jake said, "'Following the reading of some right-wing literature, several members of the football team marched down North Street, intending to stone the Russian Embassy. Of course, there are no Embassies in Lawndale.' Wow, kids, did you know anything about this?"

Quinn looked up in displeasure. "I wasn't there; I had a real date."

"'"Teens are impressionable," O'Neill said, "and the last thing we need is to build a base of operations for political extremists."' Daria, did you have any idea there were these kinds of radicals here in town?"

Daria looked at Quinn. "No, but we gotta maintain constant vigilance against those who manipulate us into taking actions we'd never do alone."

Jake grinned. "I'll say!"

Everyone looked toward the living room when the doorbell rang. John shrugged. "I'll get it."

He shuffled to the door and opened it. Sandi, Tiffany and Stacy were waiting outside. Sandi spoke. "Hi…um…guy. We're like, looking for Quinn's sister."

John leaned back and yelled, "Daria, it's for you!"

Daria looked up. Quinn looked at her in terror and whispered, "You can't go out there. I'll go tell them you're sick or something."

"But Quinn, I feel fine."

"Daria, you can't."

She raised an eyebrow.

Quinn grabbed her purse. "Ten."

"Thirty."

"Twenty."

"Done."

Quinn quickly went out front. "I'm sorry, but she's not feeling well today. Why don't I catch up with everyone at school?"

John shuffled back to the kitchen to see Daria sliding the bills into her wallet. "I'm seeing a trend here. If Quinn is going to continue pretending you're not her sister…"

Daria slipped the wallet into her jacket pocket. "…She'll have to keep paying for it."

* * *

Dialog from _Café Disaffecto_ by Glenn Eichler.

Based on the transcript at Outpost Daria.

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and The Angst Guy for beta reading.

February 2005


	3. New Model Year

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the third John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**New Model Year**

"Happy birthday, Daria. Sweet sixteen," Helen Morgendorffer said to her oldest daughter as she followed her youngest, Quinn, from the kitchen to the dining room. Quinn carried a white cake with sixteen candles burning around the perimeter.

John Lane watched with a mixture of amusement and anticipation. He was amused that Quinn's continued "helpfulness" around the house in exchange for Daria's and his silence about her unauthorized expedition to the Mall of the Millennium during school hours. He felt anticipation to see if Daria, the girl he found so fascinating, would like his gift.

"Happy birthday, Kiddo!" said Jake, Daria's father, as Quinn placed the cake on the table.

Daria looked suspiciously around the table at each person. "Remember the agreement. Any singing, and I walk."

Helen gave her a slight frown. "Yes, a deal's a deal."

Jake pushed the cake toward Daria. "Make your wish and blow out the candles."

Daria briefly eyed Quinn before inhaling and blowing out the candles.

Helen looked at the thin lines of smoke rising from the candles. "I hope your wish comes true."

Daria gazed upward. "We'll know in about fifteen minutes when the air-raid sirens start."

Helen sank into a chair and sighed, "Daria."

Daria grabbed the large cake knife and began carving into the cake. "Quinn, you want an extra-large corner piece with lots of frosting?"

Quinn's face wrinkled in disgust. "Daria, please. Give me a tiny piece out of the middle. Do you know how much fat is in that frosting?"

Even while obliging Quinn and cutting a small piece from the middle, Daria wiped some frosting from the knife and tasted it. "Hmm. Tastes like good, industrial strength lard. Bet this packs in fat by the metric ton."

Daria then served up more or less normal-sized pieces to Jake and Helen, and larger slices to John and herself.

John dug in and enjoyed. Even if it was from a bakery and not homemade, the cake was a lot tastier than the slightly stale cupcakes Trent had located for John's last birthday.

Quinn nibbled at her slice and eyed Daria's. "God, you deserve to balloon up eating stuff like that."

Helen riveted her gaze on Quinn. "Quiet. It's Daria's birthday; she's allowed a little indulgence."

John looked from one sister to the other. _Daria might show a little fat on her thighs, but it's better than that skeletal look you and the rest of the Fashion Club aspire to._

"Why don't we get a carrot cake for Quinn's next birthday?" Daria asked Helen "Then she won't have to worry."

Quinn brightened. "Daria! I didn't know you could make cake from carrots. What a great idea."

Helen picked up a package from the side of the table and handed it to Daria in a desperate attempt to divert the conversation. "Happy birthday."

Daria noted the tag and carefully pulled open tape to neatly remove the wrapping paper. She removed a leather-bound book and read the title out loud. "_The Gulag Archipelago_." She looked at Helen and Jake with understated gratitude. "Right from the top of the list. Thanks."

Helen moved the next package over. Daria opened it while keeping one eye on Quinn. She pulled the long box from the paper and read the label. "Scrunchies of the World Collection. Just what I needed."

Quinn said, "Daria, you need to start somewhere. I figured you'd really appreciate the international diversity in that package."

"Uh, yeah. Thanks."

Helen slid a third package over and watched John through the corner of her eye. Despite the clear attraction between Daria and John, Helen was relieved that they seemed to be able to control themselves. Having her daughter's romantic interest living with them continued to give Helen nightmares whenever she remembered some of her own teenage improprieties during the sixties. _It could be worse. She could be attracted to someone like John's older brother._

Daria took the clumsily wrapped box and looked at it for a moment. _The first real gift I've had from a guy. Well, if you discount that emaciated horned toad that Beavis gave me in seventh grade._ She gave John a tiny smile and peeled away the paper and opened the gift. It was a set of three cartridge-feed calligraphy pens.

John looked at her expectantly. "You want to be writer. I thought it seemed just right."

Her smiled widened. "These are nice, thanks. But, I don't know anything about calligraphy."

"I can show you. You don't think we bought greeting cards in the Lane household, did you?"

"And you were recruited to make them."

"At least after Penny left home."

That temporarily got Helen's attention. "Has your family been able to contact her about the house?"

John shook his head. "Nope. She's probably going to be in for a rude surprise, and so is anyone who moves into the old place."

* * *

After the party, John held Daria's hand as they sat a carefully spaced inch apart on her bed, watching _Sick, Sad World_. The reporter said, "An encyclopedia is an unusual product for a supermodel to promote, isn't it?"

A thin model held up a single volume and spoke in a faux-French accent. "But what's different about my encyclopedia is that you only buy the letters you find attractive. And it has big margins to draw your own pictures! How do you call them? Big margins, yes?"

John leaned back and pushed on the gray padding on the wall. "I've said it before, I'll say it again. You have the coolest room."

"It's got pros and cons. You can't hurt yourself in here. But you can't hurt anybody else, either."

"I suppose I should be grateful for that."

"Mom's threatening to redecorate again. Every time she brings it up I stumble and grab a handrail. But, I think she's catching on."

John thought for a moment. "You need to stumble somewhere else in the house. Break a bone. She'll reconsider."

"Thanks for your help."

He quickly looked at the open door to see nobody was there, then raised her hand and kissed it. "I suppose your would need somebody to help compensate for your temporary disability."

From the television came the announcer's voice. "Next, on _Sick, Sad World_: the Malibu Primate Diet."

* * *

John concentrated on a sketch while his English teacher, Mr. O'Neill, droned on. "Is Mr. Thoreau really turning his back on the world by moving to Walden Pond? Or is he, by his example, trying desperately to save the world after all? Normandy?"

The over-endowed blond cheerleader, Brittany Taylor, narrowed her eyes and said, "Brittany. He wasn't at Walden Pond because he was mad at the world. He was just mad at Jane Fonda. You know he was her father in real life, too?"

Despondent, Mr. O'Neill tried to think of some kind of rational response. "Hmmm..."

The principal of Lawndale High, Ms. Li, barged into the class and without hesitation said, "Good morning! I hope I'm not disrupting the learning process."

Mr. O'Neill sadly shook his head, relieved at the break from frustration. "Oh, no."

Grinning and gesturing, Ms. Li said, "I've got some exciting information for you all. A team of talent scouts from the Amazon Modeling Agency will be here this week as part of their national talent search and the most promising Lawndale student will receive a professional modeling contract."

Brittany sat up straighter, a motion that normally attracted the attention of most males in the room. "They got my letter!"

A pleasant black girl in the front row, Jodie Landon, asked, "Why here?"

Ms. Li produced a forced chuckle. "I guess they found out what a good looking group you are. But, seriously, this is a great opportunity for you, and even greater for Lawndale High." The school name was drawn out in the principal's own style.

Daria clearly had enough of the silliness. "Excuse me? Isn't modeling about dropping out of school to pursue a career based solely on your youth and your looks? Both of which are declared over by age 25."

"Do you have a point, Ms. Morgendorffer?" Ms. Li said in growing frustration.

John felt a twisted smile form on his lips. _This is too much fun to pass up. _"And don't fashion people squander their lives loudly worshiping all that is superficial and meaningless while the planet keeps riding the roller coaster to hell?"

Ms. Li responded with a bit of fatigue, "Modeling is a competitive field, yes, but the financial rewards are great. As principal, I'd be cheating the student body if I didn't allow them every opportunity to fulfill their potential."

Moving in for the kill, Daria said, "Excuse me. Can we assume the financial rewards are great for the school as well?"

"That is really none of your business!" Ms. Li said in annoyance.

Like a swordmaster, Daria made the telling cut. "But I don't want to miss a lesson in applied economics. I'm trying to fulfill my potential."

Ms. Li relented. "The school is receiving a fee for its cooperation, but every cent is going to capital improvements! We're finally going to get those bullet proof skylights for the swimming pool."

"Well, I for one am very excited about this." John rubbed his hands together and grinned. "I can feel myself getting into the modeling spirit."

Ms. Li enjoyed seeing fresh enthusiasm. "Excellent!"

John moved in for the follow-up strike. "May I be excused? I'd like to go to the girls' room and watch the model wannabes vomit up breakfast."

* * *

As Jodie sat down at Daria and John's regular table in the cafeteria, Daria asked, "Where's your lunch?"

Jodie said, "I ate during student council."

John shook his head. "Come on, you're not fooling us. You fed your lunch to a stray jock." He winked at Daria. "She'll have that modeling contract before you even get a chance."

Daria glared at John and said to Jodie, "You really ought to stick to mineral water and parsley."

Exasperated, Jodie said, "You know, you don't always have to be against everything. If a kid wants to take a modeling class, you can't tell her, 'no.'"

"But you don't have to let the fashion mob push the classes on school grounds, either."

John finished a bite of lunch. "Yeah, it's not fair to the dope dealers. They have to work on the other side of the parking lot. I think we need to put up rain shelters for them."

"It's completely voluntary." Jodie still couldn't understand Daria's objection. "What's the problem?"

"No problem," said Daria, "but why stop at modeling? Maybe there's a go-go bar downtown that would like to come recruit lap dancers."

John said, "Better hit the ones out by the interstate. Those downtown only recruit ,um, dual purpose employees."

Daria shot him a look that would normally kill at fifty yards. "And how would you know?"

John realized just how bad that had sounded. "Um…I've helped Trent and his band set up downtown a bunch of times. We 'B' Babes is only half a block down from McGrundy's pub, and Jiggle City is around the corner from the Zon."

Daria and Jodie continued to visually lance him.

"Look, it's not like I've sampled any of the product." John looked back and forth between them, hoping for some respite.

More stares.

"Okay, I snuck in with the band a couple times. Come on, it's natural curiosity."

The stares relented somewhat.

John lightly slapped his forehead. "That's where it was! Now I remember where I saw that Eric guy your Mom works for. He and a bunch of other suits mistook Monique for a stripper when she came in to drag Trent out of Jiggle City last summer."

Daria's brain immediately shifted gears. "Are you absolutely sure that was Eric Schrecter you saw in that go-go bar?"

"Oh, yeah. The waitress called him Eric when she slapped him and said hands off the customers."

Daria smiled. "I don't know when, but that is going to be useful information."

* * *

_Channeling Picasso on a bad trip is the only explanation for her diagrams._ John looked at the convoluted series of lines, Xs and Os on the board as the Economics teacher, Mrs. Bennett, said, "The fashion industry may be a considered perfect implementer of marketplace psychology. The business insures its own survival by training consumers to focus on arbitrary styling distinctions, rather than quality and durability."

She was interrupted by the laughter of a platinum-blond man and a black-haired woman entering the room. "Huh," she said, waving them in. "You must be the representatives from the Amazon Modeling Agency."

"Well, I would hope so," the man said. "We're a little long in the tooth to be attending high school."

The woman jokingly slapped the man's back. "Speak for yourself, grandpapa," she said and laughed as he turned back in mild annoyance.

He drolly said, "Ha, ha, ha."

Mrs. Bennett laughed uncomfortably. "I was just telling the class about how the fashion industry uses customer psychology to perpetuate itself in the marketplace."

"I'm Romanica and this is Claude."

Claude walked over to Mrs. Bennett. "You know, if the hem of that skirt was an inch higher, you'd have a look as up-to-date as tomorrow."

"Do you think so?" Mrs. Bennett asked, looking down at her legs.

Claude waved a hand. "Show off those gams, girlfriend."

Brittany, who'd come to class in a trench coat, cried out, "This is the most exciting day of my life! Being a model is all I've ever wanted to be."

Kevin Thompson looked like a hurt puppy. "Uh…hey..."

Brittany leaned over to placate him. "I mean, besides being the girlfriend of the cutest guy on the team. Oh, and winning the national high school cheerleading championship." Her voice took on a serious tone. "Oh yeah, and helping the starving kids in the desert, or wherever."

Romanica came over and held Brittany's chin in her hand. "Well, let's have a look! Hmmmm...lovely. What is your name?"

"Brittany. Is that okay? Because I was thinking of changing it to Blue."

"Can you take off your coat and walk for us?" Claude asked.

Romanica gave her a predatory grin. "Just slip out of that jacket and do a little runway, sweetie."

Brittany shed the coat to show a pink, strapless formal gown. She strutted up and down an aisle of desks while the other students watched. John sensed Daria's tired disgust at the proceedings, though he looked on in amusement at the air-headed girl. While Brittany's back was turned, Claude motioned with his hands to indicate the teen's large breasts. Romanica shook her head.

Romanica quietly clapped. "That was just wonderful! Don't you think so, Claude?"

He said, "Wonderful? Astonishing! We'll see you in class…Blue."

Romanica gazed around the room. "Now, who else in this room is a potential superstar of fashion?"

_Can we end this, now?_ John held up a sketch of Claude and Romanica as circling vultures. Romanica stepped back with a frown on her face.

Claude laughed at the drawing. "That's an excellent likeness of you, darling." He gazed around and spotted Daria. "Oh, look at you. So waif-like, so pouty. Could you remove your glasses?"

Daria deadpanned, "Could you remove your halter top?"

"Pardon?"

"I can't take my glasses off. I need them to see scam artists."

The two looked at her in surprise.

John leaned over and quietly said, "Good one, Daria."

"Excuse me," said Claude and Romanica as they left the room.

Romanica glanced back and said under her breath, "Hmm. Daria."

Daria said to John, "Thanks."

He grinned. "Isn't _Waif_ the name of the fashion magazine your sister obsesses over?"

"That I never want to be even remotely associated with. If you don't want bootprints on certain body parts, you will never mention that again."

* * *

While John idly picked at his lasagna, Daria spoke to Jake and Helen. "So then Ms. Li admits to only doing this for new bulletproof skylights. The whole thing is sick enough to turn your stomach. Which I guess is good if you want to become a model: eases the transition into bulimia."

Helen said, "You really feel strongly about this."

"What do you mean?"

"Well…you're talking to us."

Thrown slightly off-guard, Daria said, "Well, yeah, well."

Helen beamed. "I'm glad you feel strongly about it Daria, and for the record, I agree with you."

Jake perked up. "So do I!"

Daria looked from one to the other. "I suppose you realize that now I have to reconsider my position."

John looked up. "But does that mean you agree that you look…"

"I told you not to mention that."

Helen looked at the two and dismissed the obviously private message. "These people sound like opportunists who are feeding off the vanity of naive young people. I pity the kids who get sucked in by them and I pity their poor parents."

Quinn rushed into the dining room and said, "Mom! Dad! Guess what? I've been accepted into a really exclusive modeling class!"

As a group, all four looked at her.

Confused, Quinn said, "What?"

* * *

A few minutes later, Quinn pounded her fists on the table and demanded, "What do you mean, I'm not the modeling type? Are you talking about my hips?"

Helen said, "This has nothing to do with your hips."

"It can't be my boobs," Quinn arrogantly said. "Claude said that my boobs are perfect."

Jake jumped up in a full rant. "Who's Claude? I'll kill him! If he is a him."

"As close as I can tell, Claude thinks any boobs are perfect," John muttered.

Helen wearily said, "You're not killing anyone Jake."

Jake slumped. "Can I go upstairs, then? This conversation is making me really uncomfortable."

"Sit down, Jake," Helen irritably said before turning to her daughter. "Quinn, this isn't about your body. I don't think you realize that modeling is an extremely competitive activity."

While keeping her voice level, Quinn lowered her head and said in a predatory tone, "So is dating. If you do it right."

"In which your value as a human being is based entirely on how you look."

"When does the bad part come in?"

The cordless phone on the table rang. Daria looked on in surprise when neither Helen nor Quinn moved to answer it by the second ring. "Wow, they are upset, she said as she picked up the phone after the third ring. "Hello?"

Romanica reclined on a table in a spa, speaking on a cell phone. "Hello! My name is Romanica DeGregory."

In a mock accent, Daria said, "And I am Daria Morgendorffer."

Romanica smiled unpleasantly. _How nice, our little scam spotter. _"I wonder if I might speak to a Helen Morgendorffer."

"Hold on please." Daria handed the phone to her mother.

Helen sweetly said, "Hello?"

"Am I speaking to the mother of Quinn and Daria Morgendorffer?"

"Yes, I'm their mother."

_Their mother?_ Startled, Daria listened carefully.

"This is Romanicaaeeeeee!" she screeched as a spa worker poured a depilatory hot wax on her. "Romanica DeGregory, with the Amazon Modeling Agency. Have I called you at a bad time, Mrs. Morgendorffer?"

"Please, call me Helen. What can I do for you, Monica?"

"Call me Romanica. Helen, your daughters have been selected along with a mere handful of girls to participate in a complementary class in the Lawndale High auditorium."

"A complementary class?"

Jake perked up at the word. "Complementary?"

"Absolutely complementary Helen," Romanica smoothly replied, "and an experience that we expect will generate many compliments. All the students are invited but Daria and Quinn will be among the lucky ones who will be coached on stage. We're looking upon modeling superstars."

Helen showed a mix of pride and suspicion. "Uh, huh."

"I shouldn't be telling you this, but we think your daughters are something special!"

"We think they're pretty special, too."

_They're?_ Daria switched from curiosity to concern.

"You know, Helen, I spend a lot of time with the world's top models and they all have that special something. I think millions of girls have a little something but it's not special. Your daughters have something special. Quinn is a pearl in a bed of oysters. Daria is a diamond in the rough."

Helen nodded and looked at Quinn, then Daria. "I'll discuss this with my daughters, Monica, and we'll let you know."

_Daughters. Plural. This is not good._

John noticed Daria's concern and slid a little closer to her.

"Rrrrrrrromonica! Thank you, Helen. And remember, opportunity knocks, but it doesn't beg." She let out a loud, "Ahhhhhhhh!" as the cooled wax was ripped away. "Goodbye."

Helen switched off the phone. "What a strange woman."

Quinn stood and leaned against the table. "You gotta let me do this! You always say I can be anything I want to be!"

Helen sighed, "Yes, I do say that."

"That reminds me," Daria said, "can I be the queen of Brazil?"

John nudged her. "Would that make me your consort?"

She smiled at him. "That'll do, since you won't make a good mistress."

"All right," Helen said to Quinn, "you can participate in the open class, but it goes no further and on one condition."

Quinn happily cried, "Yes!" before narrowing her eyes. "What condition?"

A split second later, Daria also said, "What condition?"

Helen looked at Daria. "Both of you have been invited to the class. Daria, even though I normally don't approve of such activities, I think this would be a wonderful opportunity for you to get out of your shell and learn to be a little more feminine."

Quinn's eyes flew open in outright panic. "Mo-om! You can't let Daria in the class!"

Helen stabbed Quinn with a prosecutorial gaze. "Then I can't let you in the class."

"Mo-om!"

"One or the other. Choose."

Quinn angrily folded her arms and looked at Daria. "Fine! She'll only make the rest of us look better." She turned and stalked away from the table.

Helen turned to her oldest with her calmest lawyer façade in place. "Now, what do I have to do to make you go to that class?"

"Forget it."

"Daria, I want you there to keep an eye on her, and do a better job than you did at that party."

"I can watch her from the audience."

"I'm serious about this helping you out of your shell. Let's put it this way: You can negotiate a price from me for you to go, or a price you will have to pay to stay out. One or the other. Choose."

John quietly backed away from the discussion as he noticed Jake doing the same. Jake leaned over to put an arm around John's shoulder and whispered, "Son, you're learning. Never, never get between them when they're negotiating."

Daria released a frustrated sigh and held up one finger. "No mention of redecorating my room until I graduate from high school."

"Agreed."

Daria held up a second finger and briefly looked at John. "John and I are allowed to close the doors of our rooms, but not latch them, when we're in a room together."

The tension in her jaw line made it through Helen's controlled face. "Agreed."

Daria held up a third finger. "Neither you, nor Quinn, will attempt to influence what I wear to this."

A slight twitch hit the corner of Helen's eye. "Deal. Now, don't push your luck."

"Deal."

Helen released her held breath. "You're getting tougher."

"This has the potential for my total humiliation. The price had to be high." Daria allowed a small smile to show. "However, there is the potential for Quinn's total humiliation, which could make it all worthwhile." She turned and walked upstairs. John rose to follow.

Feeling like she'd just been through a rough cross-examination, Helen turned to Jake. "Tell me I should just be glad that she's going."

Jake grinned. "Of course you should! It's great that she wants to look out for her little sister."

"Do you hear anything that goes on here?" Helen barked.

In full retreat, Jake said, "Have you seen the paper?"

* * *

John followed Daria into her room. She stepped behind him and pulled the door closed, but not latched. "Crap. Crap…crap…crap."

John gently placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping to comfort her. "Look at the bright side? We can have a little privacy."

Daria reached up and held his hand. "And I saved my room, but John, I really don't want to do this."

"I know. I wish I could help."

"God. Having to parade around up on stage with a bunch of fashion monsters."

"You mentioned the opportunity to humiliate Quinn. Since you have to be there, you really could, you know."

"Huh?"

"Show her up. You hide it very well, but you're better looking."

Daria shook her head. "I know very well what I look like. Don't even go there, John."

"But, just one…"

She continued shaking her head. "It would embarrass Quinn, but it would also give her and Mom a big victory I can't afford. Both of them use their looks to get ahead and think I should, too. Quinn is obvious about it, while Mom wears those tailored suits with the minimum length skirt she can get away with in court. Don't think she doesn't use her legs for effect. If I give in and show off there, it'll give them more leverage to use against me."

"Okay, okay. Scrub that idea. We'll have to figure out another way."

"Good." Daria picked up a notebook from the floor and sat on her bed to think.

John came over and sat next to her. "So, what's the plan?"

"I don't know yet." Daria looked at the notepad for several moments. She gave John one of her warm smiles, pulled him close with one arm, and kissed him. "Thank you."

* * *

John sat alone near the back of the auditorium. Daria, Quinn, and the rest of the Four Horses of Fashion -Sandi Griffin, Stacy Rowe, and Tiffany Blum-Deckler - were lined up on the stage, along with a plump girl with curly red hair. Romanica and Claude stood next to a model runway erected on the stage deck.

Romanica looked at the girls. "All right, ladies, your worst enemy is at the end of the cat walk, the one that stole your boyfriend. She has fallen and broken her leg. Your job is to tell her, without words, that you've come to watch them cut it off." She crossed her throat with one finger as she finished. As the girls began walking, she said, "Very good, Sandi, Stacy..."

As the plump girl walked by, Claude and Romanica exchanged a few words unheard by anyone else. As Quinn went by, Romanica said, "Oh, Quinn, that is excellent. You look to be truly savoring another's misfortune."

Quinn cocked one hip out with her hand resting on it. "Thanks."

Daria was last in line, dressed in her normal ochre shirt, green jacket, black skirt, and boots. She clearly made no attempt to do anything but walk normally.

Claude hissed, "Romanica. The first decoy was wonderful, but our little pouty waif is a disaster. Why don't we let her go?"

"Patience," she whispered back, "let the peer pressure work its magic. Those four girls are predators that will tear her apart at the first sign of weakness."

"If you say so." Claude put on a smile and said to the group, "Now, girls, you are little kittens in an animal shelter, and you have to look sad so someone will adopt you. Or else, it's kitty heaven."

John smiled to see Daria make a comment that caused all the other girls to say, "Eww," and step away from her. Claude turned away from Daria in frustration.

Romanica turned to the girls and said, "Now. When you stride down the runway, you're walking towards your car. You've spotted a headless corpse in it - and it's a brand-new car!"

Daria's voice carried out into the auditorium. "And it's a smelly old corpse."

The other girls stepped farther away. Romanica glared at Daria and Claude glared at Romanica.

John's brother, Trent, wandered in to the auditorium and sat down next to him. "Hey, Johnny."

He looked over. "Yo! Trent, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know. Whatever."

"You didn't drag yourself out of bed before nightfall for whatever. What are you doing?"

Trent propped his legs on the seats in front of him. "Um…you know. After you told me about this on the phone, I thought I'd check it out. Get used to being around fashion types. You know, for the future."

"Trent, what are you talking about?"

Alternating between pointing at himself and the stage, he said, "You know, models, musicians? Models, musicians?"

_As if._ "Does Monique know you're out and about?"

"Um, I'm not sure how to break it to her. You got any ideas?"

John rolled his eyes. "She kicked you out."

"Well, yeah."

John shook his head. "Where are you staying?"

"You know, wherever."

Approaching noises began to divert John's attention. Whimpering loudly into a handkerchief, Brittany sat down near the end of the row, next to John.

John looked over. "I'm afraid to ask."

"I'm not model material!" Brittany whined, "I should be up there on stage with the winners instead of out here in the audience with the losers!"

"Yeah, we can be such bad influence."

Kevin appeared and sat next to Brittany. "Oh, babe, I found you."

"Kevin, life is so unfair." Brittany buried her face in his shoulder pad.

"What's wrong, babe?"

Brittany's response was garbled.

Kevin gave a confused, "Huh?"

John looked over. "Don't ask. Just be there for her." John looked away so he wouldn't see the results.

Kevin put his arm around Brittany. "Oh, okay."

Claude's voice carried out into the audience as he pointed at Kevin. "You, out there. What's your name?"

Kevin looked up in surprise and pointed at himself. "Kevin?"

Claude waved. "Come on up here, and help our pretty little sparrows learn to pose with handsome young eagles."

Kevin stupidly grinned. "Sure!" He bounced up, leaving Brittany to whimper and fall over into his seat.

John noticed Quinn's three captive males, Joey, Jamie, and Jeffy, were already on stage. He looked to the side. "Don't be sad, Brittany. He's up there with the winners now."

Brittany sat up and bawled loudly.

Claude continued to scan the audience, finally pointing. "You, we need another handsome hunk up here."

Mack MacKenzie looked at his girlfriend, Jodie.

She shrugged. "If Daria can stomach being up there, I don't see any harm."

John looked back at his brother. "Trent, where are you staying?"

"I'm going to be at Jesse's this week, as soon as he finds the sofa. Hopefully, Max will have shoveled out some room for me next week."

"Trent, I'm worried. Please find a real place to stay."

"That kind of needs, you know, real money."

"I know. Look, you either need to find some more gigs for the band, or you need a second job."

"Job…man, that's just cruel."

Unnoticed, Brittany left the chair and moved forward in the audience to keep a closer eye on Kevin.

"Trent, so is being homeless. It's already November."

"Damn, I don't know."

Daria loudly said, "Excuse me?"

John and Trent looked up.

Trent said, "Hey. Isn't that Daria up there?"

"Yeah."

On the stage, Joey, Jamie, Jeffy were shirtless. Kevin wore his shoulder pads. Mack stood with his shirt on and a look of distaste on his face.

Daria faced off against Romanica. "No offense to Mack, but not a chance."

"No offense Daria," Mack said, "but same here."

Romanica glowered at the two. "Are you sure?"

Quinn stepped back from Joey and looked at Daria. Daria could see that Quinn wanted a way out, even if she wouldn't admit it.

Daria looked at Romanica. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Young lady, you're registered in this class, and you will participate in all parts of the class."

"Excuse me? This is a voluntary class, and I am not volunteering for the next exercise."

"This is part of being a model. Don't tell me you haven't done anything like that to your boyfriend."

"What we may or may not have done is none of your business. You're asking me to," Daria paused, "grope one of the few people in this school I respect, who is also the boyfriend of one of the few other people I respect. I will stand here like a lump, but I will not participate."

Romanica was getting visibly angry. She clenched her fists and searched for something to say.

Claude chuckled into his hand and quietly said, "What was that about peer pressure magic, darling?"

Daria looked at her. "Peer pressure? I'd wondered why I was invited."

Ms. Li appeared from the stage wing and charged over. "Ms. Morgendorffer! Just what are you doing, harassing our guests like that?"

Daria turned. "Refusing to participate in what I'm sure you will find to be undesirable behavior."

Ms. Li's eyes registered the four shirtless boys with the rest of the Fashion Club standing in front of them. "What the hell is going on here?" She turned to Romanica and Claude. "This is not what I approved of." She turned to the boys. "Get your shirts on! This is not Coach Gibson's gymnasium." Shooing with her hands, she moved toward the students. "Clear out. Class is dismissed!"

The students broke up and started to move away. Daria and Mack went down the front steps to the auditorium, while Quinn sprinted for the restroom.

Brittany grabbed Kevin and dragged him away as he cried, "But, babe. It was only modeling!"

When they reached Jodie, Mack sat with a sigh of relief. "This week's column should be interesting," Daria whispered to Jodie, I'll have it to you by tomorrow morning."

Jodie said, "Thanks." She briefly held Daria's hand. "Really, thanks."

Daria gave her a brief smile and nod before heading out to where John and Trent were seated.

"Great performance," said John.

Daria smiled and sat down. "Saving my own butt. Hey, Trent. What brings you here?"

"Oh, you know. Thought I'd…"

John put a hand over Trent's mouth. "Monique kicked him out and he's looking for a place to stay."

"Damn, I'm sorry."

Trent shook his head. "No big deal. I once spent six months living in a tent. I can do it again."

"Trent, that was over the summer. And I brought sandwiches out for you every day." John looked at Daria. "He was in the backyard."

* * *

Seated around the table with the Morgendorffers, John looked down at his plate. _I'm going to learn how to cook if I see lasagna again this week._

"So I thought," Quinn prattled on, "if I sign up with a charity now, before I'm famous, later on I can say, 'Oh! I was helping others long before I started modeling.'"

"We agreed that you would take that one class and that was it," Helen replied.

Quinn dreamily looked up. "I was thinking maybe some group that helps animals, but cute animals."

"Quinn, we made a commitment to each other and now it's time to honor that commitment. No more modeling classes."

"Mom! I'm not talking about the class that Daria scr…was also in. I'm talking about winning the modeling contract."

John said, "You looked pretty appreciative to get off the stage, to me."

Quinn looked at him in annoyance. "John, this is none of your business."

Helen looked at John. "What do you mean?"

Before John could say anything, Quinn interrupted. "I had to go to the bathroom really bad. I was glad to get offstage to go."

"Oh." Helen moved a hand toward Quinn. "Sweetheart, please don't take this the wrong way, but what if you don't win?"

Quinn looked stupefied. "Don't win?"

Daria produced a mischievous, knowing smile. "Then I guess the animals are on their own, even the cute ones."

Helen looked at Daria. "You haven't said anything about your experience. How did you find the class?"

"Irritating."

Helen dropped her head. "Didn't you get anything out of it?"

Daria smile grew slightly. "I had a fascinating look inside the world of modeling that provided material for my next newspaper column."

Helen perked up. "Sweetie! That's wonderful, you…" Helen's voice slowly fell as the implication sunk in. "…have material for your column."

* * *

John pulled Daria's room door almost closed and leaned against her computer desk as she typed. "How's it coming?"

Daria talked without pausing her typing. "Almost done."

"Cool. Um…are you going to be able to help me, after?"

Daria stopped typing and saved the file. "There. I'll give it a once-over in the morning." She turned in the swivel chair to face John. "I'll help, but a lot of the effort has to be from Trent. Mom and Dad are not going to let him camp in the backyard."

"I know. The best thing will be to find Mystik Spiral more gigs and find him some low-rent housing."

"We could try some net searches."

Helen quietly knocked on the door and opened it. "Would you two like a snack?"

Daria looked past John. "Mom, we ate dinner an hour ago."

"Oh." Helen set a plate of crackers on the bookshelf and entered the room. "I know you weren't happy about attending, but I really was hoping you would learn a little from that class."

"What I learned was that fashion is even shallower than I thought."

"I meant…" She looked a John. "That it might help you learn to appreciate your own…looks better."

Daria shook her head. "Mom. I do. And the people that are important to me, like you and John, do. I don't need others to appreciate how I look."

"Oh." Helen shifted her gaze to John. "How do you know how she looks?"

John stiffened. _I've imagined. _"I'm an artist." Still thinking about his imagination, John said without thinking, "I've learned to understand what a body looks like underneath clothing, to be able to represent the subject."

Helen's mind made a high jump to a conclusion. "You haven't had her pose nude or…"

John blushed. "No! I…no, I haven't," he blurted and shook his head violently.

A mortified cry of "Mom!" came from Daria as her face flushed bright red.

"Sorry." Helen sighed. "Just a little maternal paranoia. Young men can be very single-minded."

Swallowing, John tried to salvage the situation. "Mrs. Morgendorffer, I wouldn't make the suggestion."

Helen's lawyer instincts kicked in and she raised an eyebrow. "John, don't tell me you're not interested."

John looked at Daria and the blush returned. "I…um…I." He slumped before bracing himself. _Don't lie. She can smell it like Trent's week-old socks. _"I'd be lying if I said no."

Daria's eyes widened in shock. Helen leaned toward him threateningly.

John tenderly looked at Daria. "I can't help that I think she's beautiful. But, we're nowhere near ready for that." John turned to Helen. "I promise not to ask for as long as I live here. And, I know you'll skin me alive if I do."

"Mom, trust me," Daria added, wanting the subject to go away. "It will be a cold day in hell before I pose for a nude painting that will be put on display…anywhere."

Helen sighed in relief. "Good. John, you have kept your word so far. I'll hold you to it."

John also sighed in relief. _But someday I hope you will, if only for me._

* * *

A couple days later, Ms. Li finished up the school assembly. "Due to unforeseen circumstances, the new glass for the swimming pool skylights has been cancelled. The steel shutters will remain in place." Ms. Li closed the folder on her notes and said, "Okay, students. That will be all for today's assembly. Don't forget the pep rally tomorrow, for the honor and glory of Lawndale High." She stepped away from the podium and exited the stage.

John crossed his arms and looked at Daria. "I'm impressed. Not a single mention of the Amazon Modeling Agency."

Daria allowed a brief smile. "I should be worried that I intentionally enjoyed my extracurricular activity."

John made a cross with his fingers. "That is the path to ruin! Turn away while you still can!"

Quinn and the rest of the Fashion Club approached. Sandi angrily stepped forward, holding a copy of the _Lawndale Lowdown_. "You sabotaged our chances! After your column came out, Ms. Li sent Romanica and Claude away before they could offer anybody a contract!"

Stacy carefully quoted Daria's column from the paper. "I had to wonder if the Amazon Modeling Agency was looking for models, or perhaps more 'hands on' workers, like some of the downtown clubs are reputed to employ. To avoid that kind of embarrassment in the future, why not bring in a mercenary recruiter? One suggestion would be General Conroy from _Brutal Mercenary_ magazine. They could have lessons in hand-to-hand combat in the gym. After all, the school should be providing well-rounded educational opportunities to anybody willing to offer a financial incentive."

Sandi continued, "You clearly don't understand anything important. How would anyone call you a brain?" Sandi spun and strutted away, with Stacy and Tiffany in tow. Quinn held back, turned, and gave her a brief smile before following the rest.

Daria watched her sister. "That, is probably about the closest I'm going to get to a thank you."

John hitched a thumb at the departing girls. "I wouldn't want any of them to pose nude for me. But, I bet they'd make great strippers." John flinched from Daria's slap. "Ow!"

"One of those is my sister."

* * *

Dialog from _This Year's Model_ by Laura Kightlinger and Glenn Eichler via the Outpost-Daria transcript.

Thanks to Ipswichfan, Kristen Bealer and The Angst Guy for beta reading.

March 2005


	4. The Maze Thing

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. 

This is the fourth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**The Maze Thing**

Despite the noise level in Lawndale High's cafeteria, lunch with Daria Morgendorffer continued to be one of the high points of John Lane's day. It was the one time they could relax together. The school crowd regularly ignored them; there were no Morgendorffer parents' watchful eyes, nor frequent offers to make snacks.

An oddity for any almost any school, John even liked a lot of the cafeteria food. In the years after his parents began their almost continuous travel lifestyle, lunch at school had been the one solid daily meal that John could depend on. Even since Daria's parents had become his guardians, their regular diet of frozen lasagna still made school lunch appealing, and it had also driven him to check out _The Joy of Cooking_ from the library in a desperate bid to learn how to cook.

"So, now Kevin's my lab partner," Daria complained over her lunch.

John finished his bite of food. "Next best thing to working alone."

"Oh, no." Daria shook her head. "He likes mazes."

John thought out loud. "Maybe you could get a wind-up toy to distract him."

"His wind-up toy is working with Upchuck."

John's laugh resulted in milk going up his nose, forcing him to turn with a napkin to his face as Lawndale's dim star-quarterback, Kevin Thompson, walked up to the table.

Kevin grinned stupidly and said, "Hey, Daria. Mind if we do the maze thing at your house? My cable's broken."

John smiled at the look on Daria's face as she said, "Sure, Kevin. Why don't you come over after dinner tonight? Eleven-eleven Glen Oaks Lane." She pulled out a pencil and drew a map on a napkin. "Here are the directions."

"Wow. Thanks. See ya tonight."

"Yeah, tonight."

Kevin walked away after stuffing the napkin in his waistband

"That was special; now what do you have planned for the goon?" John asked.

"Another wind-up toy to keep him busy while I build the maze and get it right."

"That could be fun. Want some help?"

"I don't think something inspired by Escher would be a good idea."

* * *

Seated on the floor next to Daria, John scratched a gray-striped cat under the chin, while she petted a yellow-striped cat in her lap. Daria's father, Jake, was asleep on the sofa behind them. 

From the living room television, an announcer said, "It's nine-one-one in the morning and one-nine hundred in the evening. The phone sex/EMS dispatcher when _Sick, Sad World_ returns.

Coming into the living room and sitting on the sofa with Jake, Helen, Daria's mother, switched the television off and said, "Daria, I heard you're working with Kevin Thompson on a science project. He's quarterback of the football team, isn't he?"

In her lap, Zachary joined Daria in glaring at Quinn.

"Brittany was sobbing in the bathroom," Quinn said from where she sat on the floor in front and to the right of Daria.

"Must've been worried about who's going to wind her up," John said under his breath, but just loud enough for Quinn to hear and give him an annoyed gaze.

Helen leaned toward Daria. "Science is fascinating. Tell me all about it, honey."

"I can't. I signed a confidentiality paper. The other scientists would be mad."

"Oh, forget it, Daria." Groaning, Helen turned to her other daughter. "Quinn, how was your day?"

Quinn quickly started in with, "It sucked. First, my teacher gave my paper on Cleopatra's makeup don'ts an 'F'. Like he would know. Then my heel broke. Then, like, the day was almost over and only two guys had asked me out. Luckily, just before...

"Daria," Helen said in desperation, "please tell me about the project."

Daria sighed and said, "It's about how behavior is affected by positive or negative reinforcement."

"Sounds super."

Looking at Taylor, John said, "Um…I just thought of something. Am I right in assuming that hungry cats will be considered negative reinforcement?"

Daria looked down in her lap at Zachary. "Oh, crap. Okay, we'll just have to keep the mouse in the garage and these two hairball machines in the house."

"Yeah, I know. I'll run to the vet tomorrow for more hairball medicine," John said preemptively while looking at Helen's disgusted face.

"Eww!" Quinn squealed.

"You're not the one that cleans it up," John fired back. He looked down at the contented cat on his lap licking its paws and wiping its face. "That's it, contribute to the problem."

Helen returned to the previous subject. "Maybe if you and Kevin work well together, he'll associate you with feeling good and want to include you in his circle of friends. You too, John."

"Mrs. Morgendorffer, he still associates me with green jello-filled Easter eggs that I told him were from Martian bunnies, back in third grade," John said with a smile of remembrance.

Daria leaned over, "Good one."

Looking worriedly at Daria, Quinn said, "Maybe I'll help with the project. I'm into science."

Helen's eyes focused on her. "Quinn, that's great!"

Daria asked, "What exactly do you like about it?"

"Um, like, now they can make perfume without hurting little bunnies." Hearing the doorbell, Quinn jumped up and said, "Door!"

In a Pavlovian response to the telephone ringing, Helen said, "Phone!" and dashed to the kitchen.

Quinn stopped at the door. After taking a moment to assume the proper attitude and poise, she opened it and said, "Hey, Kevin."

Daria grabbed the television remote and walked up behind Quinn.

Kevin said, "Hi, Quinn. Hey, Daria. I'm ready to start this maze thing."

Quinn grabbed his arm and said, "I'm helping. Let's go."

"Wait a minute, Kevin." Daria waved the remote toward the living room. "There's something I want you to see."

She led them into the living room. Confused at seeing John, Kevin said, "Hey, I didn't know you were in our science class. You working on the maze, too?"

John dislodged the cat and stood. "Kevin, I live here."

After a laugh, Kevin said, "Good one. Dude, we've been in school together since third grade, how could you live here?"

_Your second trip through third grade. _As John shook his head in frustration, Daria clicked on the television. "Look, Kevin: the Pigskin Channel. Great big guys slamming into other great big guys. Fun."

Mesmerized, Kevin sat down next to the still snoring Jake, saying, "Cool."

The television blared, "The Pigskin Channel! Classic football games twenty-four hours a day, every day, all this month."

"Good thing I have nothing planned," Kevin said.

Daria leaned toward John and said, "Time to make our exit."

John looked at Kevin. "Before the brain damage becomes contagious."

Quinn moved up next to Kevin. "Kevin, if you want a pillow or anything, there's one on that chair."

"Thanks, babe. Just put it behind my back." Kevin leaned forward without breaking concentration from the television.

Quinn narrowed her eyes at Daria. "Shouldn't you be working on your project? You know, teaching a mouse to fetch or whatever?"

"Looks like there's plenty of fetching going on already," Daria said and headed to the garage.

Briefly looking over his shoulder, John said, "Sometimes I worry about that boy."

Daria looked at him. "Oh?"

"Daria, your sister is prancing around and almost throwing herself at him, and he's watching football reruns."

"When you put it that way."

* * *

With an old sheet placed on the carpet to protect it from spatters, John had his easel set up in the windowed corner of the living room. He painted Kevin as a knight in scruffy armor, cheering along the sidelines of a joust and oblivious to Quinn, wearing too much makeup and dressed in a tight sideless gown. 

Kevin jumped from the sofa and almost knocked over a tray table holding the remains of dinner. "Go, go, go!"

Quinn stood next to him. "Gee, Kevin, I hope the steak isn't too medium rare."

_Take-out from Up Front Steaks. You'd think he'd notice the little plastic tag that says, "Medium Rare" stuck in it. _John snickered. _Kevin, you make my brother seem observant._

Kevin yelled at the television, "You suck!" before saying to Quinn, "That's my team! Oh, the steak? It was cool. And I really like this yellow dip. Hey, tomorrow night, let's have sloppy joes."

Quinn seductively moved closer and cooed, "Um, I was thinking tomorrow night you might take me to Chez Pierre. The food there is, like, really good and the waiters are, like, really foreign."

"Gee, babe, there seems to be plenty of good food right here." His attention drifted back to the televised football game and he sat down.

Unused to such a response, Quinn said, "Yes, but..."

She was cut off by Kevin jumping back up, yelling, and pointing at the television. "Agh! You suck, you suck, you suck!

Quinn stood staring in disbelief at Kevin, ignoring the doorbell when it rang. John shrugged and said, "I'll get it."

When he opened the door, he saw Kevin's cheerleader girlfriend, Brittany Taylor, dripping wet. John said, "Um…Brittany. What happened?"

"Ugh. That despicable Upchuck made me change the water in his fish tanks!" She reached up and wrung water out of her hair.

_How did you get completely soaked in the process?_

Brittany tried to look past him. "Is Kevin here?"

John shrugged and stepped back as Kevin said, "Hey, Quinn, what's for dessert?"

Brittany's eyes blazed with anger when she saw Kevin. "Oooh!" She stamped a foot and marched away with both hands clenched into fists.

John said, "Bye, Brittany," and closed the door. "Kevin's in deep doodoo now."

* * *

With a bag of groceries held in one arm, John got out of his brother's blue bomb of a car and said, "Thanks for the ride, Trent," just as Daria got out of the other side. 

She said, "I don't believe I just watched you shop for real food," and shut the car door.

Trent stuck his head out. "See you two later. I'm supposed to pick up Monique to show her my new place."

John waved with his free hand. "Later."

After Trent pulled away, John crossed the pavement and Daria fell into step next to him as they went to the door. She said, "I wouldn't have thought the old storeroom of Axel's Piercing Parlor would be some place he'd want to show off."

"They've both known Axel for years."

"And from the looks of it, are regular customers."

"And that."

"How's he paying for it?"

"Trent told me he got a solo gig for nights the band isn't playing."

"Where?"

"That's what I'm worried about, he won't say."

"Hmm."

"Daria? Could you get the door, please?"

Daria smirked. "Why certainly, my dear sir." She held the door for John as stepped inside.

"The bag's starting to go," he said as he rushed to the kitchen. Just as he got the bag onto the edge of the kitchen counter, it gave way.

Daria followed him at a normal pace. "You're really going to try to cook dinner?"

He started pulling some basics out of the bag. "Desperation, Daria. I can only eat so much lasagna."

"We Morgendorffers are genetically predisposed to it."

"Or just well trained."

"Eww, John. What are you doing with that?" Quinn asked as she entered the kitchen.

"I'm going to attempt dinner."

"Stay away from my stuff, okay?"

John looked the bakery box on the counter. "A cake?"

"Oh, just a little something for Kevin." She shot a glare at Daria. "Something you wouldn't understand."

_I understand. Daria just doesn't need such enticements. _He shrugged and said, "I only need the stovetop, so we should be able to stay out of each other's way."

Quinn spun around to leave. "All right. I need to get ready for Kevin. Don't touch it."

Daria lightly laughed. "Well, while you have fun, I want to work on the project for a while."

Lowering his voice, John said, "Why are you giving Kevin such a free ride on this? You're doing all the work and he'll get the same grade."

"Because I want a good grade. I've watched him in science lab and he's a rolling disaster. He hasn't done a single experiment in which he didn't break something or otherwise completely foul it up."

"So, you're covering your own."

"Exactly."

She nudged Zachary away from the garage door with her boot. "No, you're not welcome. _Souris du jour_ is not on the menu for you tonight."

After Daria closed the door, Zachary nosed around for a moment, and then moved against the kitchen counter and settled down with a straight shot for the door when it opened.

* * *

"John, my man, what's up?" Jake said entering the kitchen. 

John wiped his brow with his arm as he struggled over chopping onions. "I'm attempting to make some dinner. Um, I'm still going to need a little time." He looked at the book propped on the counter.

"The lasagna's in the freezer."

"I thought I'd try something different. Um…kind of a thank you for everything."

"Wow, have fun."

Quinn carefully slid the cake onto a serving plate and folded the box. "Hi, Daddy."

"Hey, Quinn. Looks like you've been busy, too. Ol' Mom better watch out or she'll lose control of her kitchen." Jake grinned and went out to the living room. Moments later, he was snoring.

John picked up the book and flipped to the glossary. "What the hell does that mean?"

* * *

Later that evening, Daria raised a gate to allow the white mouse into the completed maze. Just as it was starting to move, Kevin walked into the garage from the kitchen. 

She looked up at him. "Kevin, what are you doing here? Did you get lost?"

Kevin chuckled and said, "No! I mean, sort of."

John exclaimed, "Dammit!" as he abandoned the skillet he was tending and dashed around the counter.

Unfazed, Kevin said, "Hey, cool! You finished the maze! That must've taken, like, forever."

John rushed past Kevin, stooping low and slamming the door shut behind him. "Come here, you little sneak."

Daria noticed Zachary dash across the room and she scooped up the mouse. _Kevin. You idiot._

Kevin reached down and accidentally broke a door off in the maze. He held it up and said, "Oops. Sorry."

_Cat and collateral damage. Why I wanted to keep him away. _Daria said slowly, "Kevin... I want you to put the door down and step away from the maze, and no one will get hurt."

"Gotcha!" John came out from under the maze table with Zachary in his arms.

Daria smiled at him. "Thanks."

"Hey!" Kevin noticed the mouse in Daria's hands. "Is this the mouse we're training?"

"You don't recognize him after all your hours together?"

While the cat squirmed in his arms, John said, "No, your dinner is inside the house," as he neared the door.

Kevin asked Daria, "Hey, can you make him stand on his head?"

Daria held the mouse and kept an eye on the cat. "Not right now. He's exhausted from jumping rope."

Quinn opened the door and Taylor slipped into the garage between her legs. John pushed past her and grumbled, "Dammit!"

Quinn held the cake up and said in a cheery voice, "Look what I made, Kevin."

John tossed Zachary out of the door and closed it before turning to hunt Taylor. _I know where I want to put that cake._

"No ice cream?" Daria needled Quinn before looking at Kevin. "I wouldn't put up with that if I were you."

Barely noticing the cake, Kevin said, "Uh, yeah. Thanks, Quinn. Leave it by the TV."

"Yah!" John lunged and grabbed Taylor.

Quinn frowned at Kevin. "Leave it by the TV. It's like we're already going out."

Just as John started for the door, Brittany opened it and Zachary darted back in the room.

John mumbled, "Stupid bimbo."

Daria moved the mouse over to its cage and put it in, whispering, "Looks like you'll be safer there."

Brittany pointed at Kevin. "There you are!"

Kevin gave her a sly smile. "Yo, babe."

She stomped up to him with fists clenched. "So, like, what have you been doing all night?"

Kevin looked at Daria, and then back at Brittany. "Um... working?"

John tossed Taylor out and closed the door again. He turned, giving Brittany a dirty look.

She looked over the maze. "Wow, this looks really complicated. Kevin, you're so smart. Explain it to me."

"Uh... well, see, there's this path." Kevin grinned in surprise. "Wait...hey. Oh, there's two paths. Cool!"

John stalked Zachary again, crawling under the table.

"Working, huh?" She glared at the cake. "You could at least hide the evidence. Now tell me, what's going on here?"

"Relax, Brittany." Daria pointed to the confection. "Have a nice big piece of the chocolate layer cake Quinn made just for Kevin."

Brittany squealed, "Ooh! You, you...vixens!"

Zachary backed away from Brittany's voice, right into John's grasp. He told the cat, "Yes, she can be very scary."

Grabbing Kevin's arm, Brittany barked, "Come on, we're leaving."

Kevin protested, "But it's only half time! I mean... Daria needs me."

Daria couldn't resist. "Yeah. He has three more doors to break."

Not exactly realizing it, Kevin agreed. "Yeah."

A pager clipped to Brittany's waistband went off. She looked at it in disgust and let go of Kevin. "Ugh! All right, Upchuck, I'm coming." She faced Daria squarely. "But I'm warning you, Miss...Smartiness. I know how to fight for my man."

Kevin abruptly said, "What man?"

Brittany yanked the door open and ran out through the kitchen to the front door. Taylor trotted back into the garage.

John growled in frustration.

From the living room, Jake called, "Is that smoke?"

* * *

John looked at his slice of pizza and said, "It was real nice of your folks to give us money to have pizza for dinner tonight." 

Daria lifted her slice. "I think the smoke screen in the kitchen last night had something to do with it."

"I didn't know olive oil would smoke that easily. Besides, if I hadn't had to keep chasing after the cats those idiots kept letting into the garage, nothing would have happened."

Kevin walked up to the booth. "So, Daria, we still have a lot of work to do on this maze thing, right?"

Daria finished her bite. "Yeah, but I don't expect you to maintain your laser-like focus of the past week."

"Cool! Whatever. Hey, maybe I'll stop by the garage tonight…after the Steelers game."

"That's not really necessary."

"Oh, wait!" Kevin grinned stupidly. "I can't. I promised Quinn I'd help her practice her back massage technique."

John muttered, "But we can barely hold hands."

In a nearby booth, one of Quinn's customary suitors, Joey, said, "Kevin's been hanging out at that Daria chick's, like, every night this week."

A second, Jeffy, said, "But that chick's a brain."

The third, Jamie, said, "And she still hangs out with that art guy. Maybe one guy just isn't enough for her."

Joey grinned. "We gotta find out."

As they walked into Pizza Prince, Brittany complained to Jodie Landon, "Ooh! Can you believe Daria's trying to take Kevin away from me?"

Tiredly, Jodie said, "I can't believe anyone would try to take Kevin away from you."

"Thanks." Brittany smiled at Jodie. "You're a friend."

As Brittany walked over toward Kevin, Jodie had a look of "Just think of how much good karma I'm building up."

When she reached him, Brittany said, "Kevin, the new Whitney Houston movie is out and I want you to take me, tonight."

"Can't, babe. Got to work with Daria." Kevin leaned toward Daria. "You know...science."

Daria told him, "That's all right, Dr. Pasteur. You can take a night off."

"Really, you can," John added.

Kevin desperately whispered, "Daria! That's a chick movie!"

Annoyed, John said, "Kevin, go see the damn movie."

"Kevin, I heard that." Brittany lanced him with her eyes. "What show are we going to?"

Panicked, Kevin yelped, "Oh-oh. Gotta go. Practice!" and ran from the building.

Brittany menacingly leaned toward Daria. "If you think you're going to take Kevin away from me, you're wrong. Because he's my Kevin, and you're…you're a...a brain."

Her annoyance building, Daria said, "You know, Brittany. That was actually a very astute observation about the likelihood of my dating your boyfriend."

John looked at his pizza. "But you might want to keep your eye on Quinn."

Brittany swiveled her head to notice John for the first time. "Ooh!" she fumed and marched away.

Leading the other two toward Daria, Joey said, "Damn. Brittany's worried about her stealing Kevin?"

"Man, Daria must really have something going," Jeffy said.

Jamie stopped the other two. "Hey, the John guy is there. We better stay cool for now."

Quinn walked by and tossed her hair. "Joey, Jeffy, Jamiel. Which one of you guys wants to walk me home?"

That instantly diverted their attention away from Daria and they looked like the Three Stooges on a particularly uncoordinated day following Quinn out of the restaurant.

Daria looked at John. "You okay?"

He looked at his hand, turning it around. "Ever feel like you're invisible?"

Hurt and frustrated, Brittany dropped into a booth and said to Jodie, "How can I compete against sisters? There's only one of me."

Jodie sighed. "Brittany, you're not competing against Daria. She has John."

Brittany's eyes burned. "John. How can someone like Daria keep two guys happy?"

After it beeped, she glared down at her pager. "Dammit, Upchuck!"

Jodie said, "Brittany, trust me, Daria is only interested…"

Brittany ran to the door. As she opened it, she grinned. "John."

* * *

The next afternoon, John's lunchtime conversation with Daria burned in his memory as he pushed himself hard at track practice. 

_Daria dropped her tray on the table in disgust and sat. "Did I suddenly get a boob job and nobody bothered to tell me or something?" _

_John said, "Trust me, I would have noticed." _

_"That's not funny." _

_"Whoa, what happened?" _

_"Joey, Jamie and Jeffy all propositioned me today." _

_"Did they all suddenly confuse you with Quinn?" _

_Daria shook her head. "No. They knew it was me. They are suddenly under the impression that I am highly…um…active." _

_"Where in the hell would they get that idea?" _

_"I didn't think it was possible for them to have ideas. Why did they have to start with that?" _

_"Crap." John thought back. "Those idiots were at Pizza Prince last night. I bet they heard Brittany's whining." _

_"After Kevin's 'Daria needs me' comment. Great, that's all I need. They must think I've become his new wind-up toy. Dammit!" _

_John reached across the table and took her hand. "I can't do much about what the idiots think." _

_Daria accepted the reassuring grasp. "Thanks."_

John ran harder to wear out his anger. _Morons. Getting ideas from Kevin. Dumber than I thought._ He ran harder. _If they try anything…or if they hurt her at all._ Finally, he sprinted. _What if…no, she wouldn't._

* * *

Daria placed a hand on his upper arm as they walked home. "You really look beat; hard practice?" 

"Yeah. How's the newspaper?"

"About the usual. Jodie tells me that Brittany is convinced I'm trying to steal Kevin." She frowned. "The thought of that turns my stomach. And Quinn's three sycophants, they're just disgusting."

She wrapped her arm around his and pulled closer. "Thanks for not getting all testosteroned over them. The thought of guys fighting over me is revolting."

John gave her a weak smile. "Considering my lack of fighting skills, starting a fight with any of those football players wouldn't be a good idea. But, I'll take the compliment anyway."

"I have you. Why in the world would I be interested in those clowns?"

John smiled.

* * *

_Okay, I hope things work better this time, _John thought while sautéing onions in a skillet. _I've got the temperature right and I'm staying here. Quinn's on a serious phone relay, Mr. and Mrs. Morgendorffer aren't home yet, and Daria still thinks I'm special._

He looked over at the cats in contented sleep near the sliding glass door. "Plus, you two are stuffed with fresh salmon and have no interest in mouse."

"But, I might be interested in you," Brittany said from the corner.

"Kevin's not here."

She walked over, swaying hips and twirling her hair. "I'm not looking for Kevin."

"Daria's up in her room, though I wouldn't recommend going up there right now."

Brittany walked around the counter. "You are kind of cute. I bet you're feeling left out, too."

"Um, Brittany? No, not really."

She traced a finger along his arm. "Come on."

John stepped back. "Brittany, what are you doing?"

"Oooh. Shy. I kind of like that." She abruptly wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Looking in from the living room, Quinn dropped the telephone. "Ewwwww!"

Panicked, John tried to pull away from Brittany.

Rushing into the kitchen, Quinn screeched, "Gawd, Brittany! You said you were looking for Kevin!"

John managed to pry Brittany's arms from his neck and back away, sputtering. "What the hell was that about?"

Quinn grabbed Brittany by the shoulders, shaking her. "Brittany! Come out of it! An art geek? There are plenty of football players out there. Not to mention Basketball players. What are you thinking?"

Brittany pulled away and looked at Quinn.

Quinn pleaded, "Don't throw it all away!"

John snuck over and turned the heat off on the skillet.

"Daria's trying to steal my Kevie away! So I'm going to steal John from her!"

Quinn stepped back as if hit by a thunderbolt. "Daria! What am I, chopped liver! Kevin's hanging around here to see me, not Daria."

Brittany glared back. "You're washed up. That's why Joey, Jeffy and Janie all hit on Daria today at school."

"They what!"

"They were after Daria. She's the hot Morgendorffer now. She can have those jerks. I want my Kevin back!"

"She wouldn't dare take them!"

With the two girls distracted, John snuck past them and made for the stairs. Just as he neared them, Daria made the U-turn at the base and faced him.

She said, "What is going…" Daria stopped in mid-sentence and stared at John's face, biting her lower lip.

"Brittany and Quinn are…you okay?"

Daria reached up with a slightly shaking finger and touched the smeared lipstick on John. Fearfully, she asked, "How?"

John looked at the red stain on her fingertips. "Oh, crap."

"Did you?"

"Brittany kissed me."

Daria's eyes closed in pain.

"I peeled her arms off of my neck and backed away."

Daria opened her eyes, hopefully.

"And escaped as fast as I could."

Daria swallowed. "Please be honest."

"I am. Quinn must have let her into the house. She surprised me." John shuddered. "Stop and think. She's kissed Kevin. Would I willingly put my lips on anything that had been who-knows-where on him?"

Daria put her arms around him. "When you put it that way. I'm sorry."

"I must look pretty guilty."

"Trust me, bright red lipstick does nothing for you."

John laughed in relief.

Daria narrowed her eyes slightly. "However, considering I don't know where Brittany's lips have been…"

John paled. "I want to go wash my mouth out with soap."

"That explains Brittany, what's my darling sister mad about?"

"Um…Quinn's mad because Brittany's mad at you and not her for taking Kevin, plus Brittany told Quinn about, um, the passes that were made at you this morning."

"Oh, God."

"Please don't ask me to try to explain any more."

The doorbell rang. Daria sighed and went to the door to find Kevin.

"Um…Bad time? Kevin asked, upon hearing Quinn and Brittany's raised voices.

Daria reached out and grabbed his arm, dragging him into the house. "For once in your life, I'd say your timing was impeccable."

"You calling me a bird?"

"Forget it, Kevin."

Kevin looked over his shoulder. "Uh, maybe I should go."

She got behind Kevin and pushed him toward the kitchen. "Go."

Daria whispered to John. "Please play along, and I owe you."

_With this lipstick still on my face, I better. _"Sure." As John went by the sofa, he noticed Jake asleep on it. _How can he sleep though this?_

"And just why do you have this stupid plastic bear full of honey with you?" Quinn asked snidely.

"Because that filthy Upchuck wanted it and he threatened to show photos of me with…ooh!" Brittany feebly retorted.

Daria sternly said, "Enough," and pushed Kevin into the room.

He looked at Brittany and gulped. "Hey, babe."

Daria cleared her throat. "Brittany, do you want Kevin back?"

"Yeah."

Daria looked at Quinn. "What about Jeffy, Joey and Jamie?"

Quinn waved a finger. "Jamie…that's it."

"What about them?"

"Daria, they're mine."

"Good." Daria looked around slowly. "Here's the deal. Brittany, I'll trade you Kevin for John."

Brittany brightened. "Okay, but what about Quinn? She's also chasing my Kevie."

Daria looked at Quinn. "You lay off Kevin and I'll send your puppies back to you."

Quinn looked doubtful. "But…"

Daria leaned forward. "Do you want the Fashion Club to know they've asked your cousin out?"

"Eep! Okay, you win. I'll lay off Kevin."

"Good, now everyone's got what they want."

Quinn, Brittany and Kevin muttered, "Yeah." John nodded.

"Good!" Daria pointed to Kevin and Brittany, and then to the sliding glass door. "You two, out. Go do…something. Only, make sure it's someplace else." When they looked at each other, Daria snapped, "Now!" They bolted out of the door.

Daria turned around and noticed the telephone still on the living room floor. She pointed at it and said, "Quinn, is that your call?"

Quinn spun. "Oh!" She ran over picked it up and said, "Sorry, minor crisis. Forget anything you heard. Now, where were we…?" She rushed away and up to her room.

John said, "Good one," as he went to the skillet and turned the heat back on. "Now, where was I?"

Daria then noticed Jake standing in the living room with his eyes wide and mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

Daria went up to him. "Dad? Dad?"

Jake focused on Daria. "Gah!" He stepped back in shock. "What happened to my innocent child?"

"Dad?"

"Swapping boyfriends around like…like…like..." His eyes grew to gigantic circles. "…an old sixties commune!" His eyes rolled back and he slumped to the floor.

"Dad?"

* * *

"No, Dad. You must have dreamed that," Daria told her father as she gently rubbed a glass of ice water over his forehead. 

Propped on the sofa, Jake said, "Uh, are you sure, Kiddo?" He accepted the glass and took a drink. "Thanks."

Expressionless, Daria looked at him. "Dad, do you really think I would do something like that?"

"Well, um…no."

"So you must have dreamed it." Daria tugged on his loosened tie. "Remember, don't tie it so tight. You must have slowly cut off oxygen to your head until you passed out."

"I guess."

"It was pretty scary. Please don't do it again."

"I promise."

"Good. Don't tell Mom; she'll want to inspect your tie every morning."

"Thanks, Kiddo."

"Now, enjoy the game."

"Hey, is Kevin coming over?"

"No, Dad. His part in the project is done."

"Ah. Too bad."

"Take it easy."

Daria walked back to the kitchen, sniffed, and smiled. "That actually smells good."

"How's your dad?"

"Okay, he only fainted. Thankfully, he bought the dream story."

"That one almost bit us on the ass."

"Us?"

"Your mom would lock both of us in our rooms until we went off to separate colleges, on different continents, if she thought that."

"Um, yeah."

John stirred the ground beef and onions in the skillet before checking the peas and carrots heating in a small saucepan and the instant mashed potatoes in another.

Daria leaned on the counter, looking tired and confused. "John, how did that happen?"

"Which part?"

"How did I suddenly go from outcast to the hot chick a bunch of guys wanted and girls worried about?"

"Daria, maybe your cover is thinner than you thought. I know how pretty you are. If anybody was given a reason to see past the cover, they'd see that too."

"I suppose. I've worked hard on this cover. I didn't expect it to fail that easily."

"I liked not having any competition."

Daria looked at him questioningly. "Competition? Those three?"

John studied the skillet. "I felt safe knowing that others…weren't interested. When I knew that they were…"

"You were jealous."

John looked away.

"If I can be jealous of lipstick, you can be jealous of other guys asking me out."

John relaxed.

"Though the lipstick was more obvious."

"Only one girl made a pass at me. You had three guys make passes at you."

"Rgh."

* * *

"Well, did he behave?" John asked Daria over lunch. 

"As well as could be expected." Daria waved a fork. "I told him to strike manly poses while I explained the experiment. It kept him busy enough that he forgot to talk."

"Good one."

"It helped to get him a C."

"While you got an A. I'm glad I don't have Ms. Barch for science."

"Outside of Mack, I think that's the only C I've seen her give a guy. She really hated that."

"So after everything, Kevin still came out ahead. Best science grade he's ever had."

"I think you would have liked the colors Ms. Barch's face turned when she did it."

"Okay, so there was the amusement value."

"You take what you can get."

"Going onto other subjects, did the three puppies try to hump your leg this morning?"

"I explained that Brittany hit her head and went after you, so Kevin was only going after me to make Brittany jealous. They bought it."

"Hit her head?"

"Would you want her going after you with her equivalent of a clear head?"

"When you put it that way…"

Upchuck walked past, talking to himself. "Cost me a good science grade, will you."

From the other side of the cafeteria, Brittany squealed, "But Kevin! We'd broken up that week!"

* * *

Dialog from _The Lab Brat _by Peggy Nicoll and Glenn Eichler via the Outpost-Daria transcript. 

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

April 2005


	5. Sitting Cute

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. 

This is the fifth John Lane story. 

Richard Lobinske

**

Sitting Cute

**

Standing in the school hallway, John Lane asked, "Well, are you ready to face the lidless eye of Barad Lawndale?" and enjoyed the look of mild surprise on Daria Morgendorffer's face. 

"You've read _Lord of the Rings_?" 

"Yeah, wicked story." 

"Oh, I kind of didn't picture it as your style." 

John shrugged. "I'd picked up a book of the Hildebrandt brothers' art for it. That's where I got the idea to paint from Polaroids. The art was so cool, I decided to read the books." 

A haughty voice called from down the hall, "Hello! Quinn's cousin or something." 

Daria looked past John with amusement and said, "You'll have to excuse me, my sister wants me to stay away." 

John turned to see Daria's sister, Quinn, crossing her arms in front to indicate "don't come over" while her friend and bitter rival, Sandi Griffin, was waving for Daria to approach. 

Sandi called, "So, Quinn's little friend, or whatever, take a look at this," indicating a girl standing next her that John vaguely remembered as Brooke. 

Behind them were the other two stalwarts of fashion dictates at Lawndale High, Stacy Rowe and Tiffany Blum-Deckler, plus two girls that John couldn't even put a name to. 

Daria asked, "What is it?" as she reached the group. 

Tiffany said, "It's Brooke's new nose. Isn't it cute?" 

After a few moments of careful scrutiny, Daria said, "Don't worry, it'll grow out." 

Brooke stepped back in confused shock while the rest of the girls stood by in horror. Daria gave them the briefest of smiles and walked back to John. 

"What was that about?" he inquired. 

"What kind of person would go under the knife to join the shallow end of the gene pool? Next on _Sick, Sad World_." 

"Huh? If she'd had surgery, I would've thought that they'd be…oh, you were looking at her nose." 

"I know where you live."

* * *

Near the end of Mr. DeMartino's history lecture, he said, "And on that fateful day, his followers obediently drank the poison brew." 

The class responded with various versions of "Wow" or "Whoa." 

"Jonestown, one charismatic leader exerting his demonic will over scores of followers. What lesson can we take from this tragic example of herd-like behavior? Kevin!" 

Seated in the front, Kevin Thompson said, "Uh, BYOB?" 

John lightly chuckled and whispered to Daria, "For him, that was pretty observant." 

Daria whispered back, "Frighteningly so." 

"Please return to your stupor, Kevin," the exasperated teacher implored. 

"Okay!" 

Mr. DeMartino forged on. "While we continue our discussion of cults, can anyone give me another example of a group using coercive techniques such as peer pressure, chanting, and social isolation to achieve control over its members? Brittany!" 

The blonde hesitantly squeaked, "Cheerleading?" 

"Ah, Brittany," said Mr. DeMartino. "Sometimes, despite a complete lack of insight, you stumble upon an interesting answer." 

Brittany beamed. "Wow, and I didn't even have to read the chapter!" 

John suppressed laughing out loud. "No need, you live it every day." 

"And I bet all that cheering scares away the ferrets trying to build nests in her head," Daria quipped. 

Mr. DeMartino barked, "Now remember, your term papers are due next Monday and no excuses will be accepted." 

As they walked out, John asked, "What are you doing your paper on?" 

"It's been hard to choose. So much mind control, so little time. What about you?" 

"I figure I'll do a little field study on the mind-numbing effects of Mystik Spiral's music." 

"Oh yeah, Trent rooked you into helping the band this weekend. Um, need any more help?" 

"I wouldn't mind, but there won't be room in the Tank for a tenth person on top of all the gear." 

"Tenth?" 

"Monique's band is also riding with." 

"That ought to be special. Remember your ear plugs." 

"I've developed a resistance after years of exposure." John nodded his head at Daria's sister and a blond-haired boy up ahead. "Hey, there's Quinn with one of her many pets." 

"She's well liked among classmates of both sexes. And yet, strangely, she turns my stomach." 

Both walked up to Quinn, who was saying to the boy, "Well, I…" 

Daria cut her off with, "Quinn, some guy named Skylar was looking for you this morning." 

Quinn recoiled in shock. "Oh no, he figured out you're my sister?" 

Disgusted, Daria said, "Actually, he seemed to think I was your au pair. He asked me how I liked America so far." 

Quinn smiled in relief. "People are so weird." 

"Some are weird." Not wanting to put up with any more, Daria walked away. "Some are just astonishingly self-centered and deceitful." 

John nodded and followed Daria. "Later." 

The boy said in surprise, "Skylar Feldman?" 

John snickered and said to Daria, "Good one." 

Daria smiled serenely. "And the truth shall set him free." 

"And I bet he'll never thank you for it."

* * *

John kept a careful eye on Helen as he sat with the Morgendorffer family around the dinner table. A small shaker bottle of mixed herbs was secreted in his hand, ready for an opening. 

Quinn prattled on about her encounter that morning with Brooke. "So I said, 'I thought it was cute.'" 

Jake asked, "Really?" 

"Why doesn't anyone believe me?" Quinn demanded in frustration 

Helen looked at Quinn. "What was wrong with Brooke's old nose?" 

Seizing the opportunity, John sprinkled the spices on his slab of semi-heated lasagna and then slipped the bottle to Daria. 

"It wasn't cute," Quinn stated, as if the fact should have been obvious to all, "It had like, an extra bone in it." 

"Like your head." John smirked. 

Quinn frowned at him and Helen sighed. 

To divert her mother's attention from John, Daria said, "Hey, this has been so appetizing, can we discuss liposuction now?" 

Helen looked briefly at Daria, and then back at Quinn. "I just don't like the idea of you girls talking about cosmetic surgery." 

While Helen was busy talking, Daria snuck the spices onto her lasagna and passed the bottle back to John, whispering, "Thanks." 

"Maybe when you're older, and you're doing it for yourself, or there's a sound professional reason for it. I mean, you need to be presentable. Yes, it's a double standard but women in business are judged on their looks, and there's no getting around that." Helen breathed in. "But breast implants? I just don't know." 

John raised a confused eyebrow and said, "Okay, where did breast implants come from?" 

"A special pit in the Eighth Circle of Hell. I'd certainly call them fraudulent," Daria speculated. 

Quinn muttered, "Right." 

Helen nodded to Daria. "Fraud is an excellent description, and when a woman is elected president, it won't be because she got them." 

"At least her people will deny it," Daria said in return. 

"Yeah, they'll claim she had reduction surgery," John said before taking a drink. 

"Jake?" Helen implored her husband, "I could use some help here." 

Jake uncertainly said, "Um, no honey, you look great. Everybody looks great. Perfect!" 

John looked sideways at Daria. _Well, Jake, in one instance, I can agree with you._

Helen moaned, "That's not what I..." 

"I'm not perfect." Quinn looked at her plate. "My nose has…inperfections." 

John shrugged. "I suppose that's better than your nose having perforations." 

Quinn tilted her head in confusion. 

Daria pointed to the side of her nose said, "Holes." 

"Eww!" Quinn slid her chair back. "I think I just lost my appetite."

* * *

"Hey, John," Mack MacKenzie called as he and Jodie Landon walked up to where John waited by Daria's locker. 

"Hey." John looked past them. 

Jodie said, "Daria wanted us to let you know she was called up to the office to take her sister to the doctor." 

John shifted slightly. "Do you know if it's something serious?" 

"I don't think so. Ms. Li didn't call an ambulance," Jodie said with a small smile. 

John nodded. "Good. Any idea of how long?" 

"Daria asked me to cover for her at the Lowdown after school," Jodie said. 

Somewhat disappointed, John said, "I guess I walk home alone today." 

Strolling away with Jodie, Mack said over his shoulder, "We won't tell anyone you showed the slightest concern for Quinn." 

"Thanks. I'd never live it down if word got out."

* * *

Tired, Daria sat on her bed that evening and vented. "Quinn faked having cramps just so she could go down to the Rx Plex office of that plastic quack, Dr. Shar." 

John sat on the bed next to her. "Quinn's still going on about that?" 

"Yeah." 

"So, why drag you with?" 

"Um." Daria looked toward the window. "She…wanted me there for my honesty." 

"That's an improvement." 

"Not that she paid any attention to it." 

"We can only expect so much. Well, what happened?" 

"First, Dr. Shar tells Quinn that she can fix her up for six thousand dollars." 

"Wow, personality transplants are only six Gs?" 

"I wish. I'd raid the cabin fund to get her one of those." 

"I'd pitch in the twenty bucks I've got squirreled away." 

Daria gave him a brief laugh. "Cheekbones, dimples, beauty mark and new hair. Quinn completely bought it and ignored me." 

"Figures." 

"But wait, there's more. After I made my opinion known, Dr. Shar announced that for 20 grand, she can fix me up to look like Quinn." 

_Talk about a blind professional._ "Ouch, she was really trying to make you insecure." 

"No kidding, and then to top it off, she sent me home with a pair of fake boobs 'To change my attitude.'" 

"I like your attitude problem." John had a crooked smile. "Eh, you probably only need one fake boob." 

"I'm sure you'd like the Eccentrica Gallumbits effect, wouldn't you?" 

"It would make an interesting composition." 

"Not a chance." 

John gave an obviously exaggerated sigh. "Okay." 

"That's better." 

"Out of curiosity, you got them?" 

"Yeah." 

"Well, where are they?" 

Daria pulled a small box from under her bed. "In here." 

"Oh, Daria, don't be shy, show me your boobs." 

Both suddenly watched the door in dread. John slowly counted with eyes closed, "One…two…three…four…five…six." 

He released his held breath. "Whew, she wasn't out there." 

"Good thing for you." Daria opened the box containing two clear plastic, gel-filled inserts. 

John looked in. "Hmm. Why did I think they would be more interesting?"

* * *

"They bake cookies by day, but they really heat up the night. G-String grandmas, today on _Sick, Sad, World_," the television announcer said in an excited voice. 

John lounged on one sofa and put his hand over his belly. "Easy stomach." 

Quinn looked at the toenail she had just painted with nail polish and exclaimed, "Gross!" 

Daria looked from John to Quinn. "For once, we're all in agreement." 

"This color looks nothing like melon. It's way too pink." Quinn turned to her sister. "Oh, hey Daria, what are you doing Saturday night?" 

Daria gazed away. "I told you on the bus, forget it. I don't like kids. I didn't even like kids when I was a kid." 

"But you gotta take my babysitting job! Six bucks an hour!" 

"Oooh, I could make a down payment on that isolated mountain cabin." 

Quinn tried to sweeten the offer with, "I'll pay you a two dollar an hour bonus. You can do your homework and earn money at the same time." 

"Well, there is that history paper I haven't started yet..." Daria thought for a moment. "But if I babysat for you, then technically I'd be doing you a favor. And that simply cannot be." 

Helen walked by heading toward the door. "There's angel hair in the freezer, kids, and don't forget that Saturday we're hosting the couples workshop. It's Focus On Teens night! I expect all three of you to be there." 

Quinn rolled her head to peer over her shoulder, "Sorry Mom, I have a date. Remember what you said last Saturday? A commitment's a commitment." 

Helen sighed. "Well, I guess I did say that." She looked at Daria and John. "But I'll see the two of you there." 

John winced and gave Daria a look of "I'm sorry," before saying, "Um…I'm doing roadie duty with Trent's band on Saturday." 

Looking like she'd swallowed something horrible, Daria said, "I can't, I'm…babysitting." 

Helen frowned. "Oh, dear. I suppose it can't be helped, but I expect the three of you to plan better for the next time."

* * *

Daria listened to Mr. Gupty say over the phone, "I hope Quinn explained our rules. Were you planning on having a boyfriend in the house? Because we don't allow that." 

She looked at Quinn standing nearby. _Like you don't have boys over when you're baby-sitting. But, I can't risk it._ She told Mr. Gupty, "I understand. One question, will it be a problem if a boy comes over when I'm done to escort me home? I don't want to walk alone in the dark." 

Talking on another phone, Mrs. Gupty cautiously said, "I guess that's not a problem." 

"Well, that seems to cover everything," Mr. Gupty said. "See you Saturday, Daria." 

Daria said, "Bye," and hung up the phone. Turning, she told Quinn, "Ten dollar surcharge if I have to spend more than fifteen minutes with the parents." 

Quinn shrugged. "Deal. Just be glad you don't have to put up with them after school every day the way I do." 

"I spend every day with the school paper; that's bad enough. Besides, you got yourself in that mess when you decided to get me in trouble by spilling the beans about Brittany's party. We'd all be in better shape if you'd kept quiet about that night." 

John added. "No kidding. I have to listen to Ms. Morris every afternoon for track practice." 

"Ugh. Rub it in. I've barely been able to hang onto my Fashion Club office with all this after-school baby-sitting."

* * *

While John and Daria talked in the school hallway, she pointed to Kevin, who was wearing a fake shoulder hump, ugly makeup and walking with a gnarled cane. "Ms. Barch is using him as an experiment in human reactions to appearance and, at the same time, setting a fine example for the ethical use of human subjects in experiments." 

When Kevin walked by, John asked, "How's the science project?" 

Kevin stopped and said through wadded cotton in his mouth, "Okay." He turned slightly. "Drrra, I nnnd urr…" 

Daria said, "What?" 

Kevin pulled the wadding out. "Daria, man, I need your advice. You're used to being unpopular." 

"Thanks." 

"It's really bumming me out that people hate the way I look." 

Daria remembered Dr. Shar's parting comment, and smiled inside to use the same line on the gullible boy. She told Kevin, "Well, a respectable member of the medical community once told me that money can make anyone look beautiful." 

"Hey, thanks Daria." Kevin stuffed the cotton back into his mouth and strode away down the hall. 

John scratched his neck. "What do you think he thinks you meant?" 

"What's the difference? He's gone." 

Quinn rushed up to them, spouting off, "Daria! I need to…" She waved at John. "Shoo! Shoo!" John stepped back once as she turned back to Daria. "I need to borrow six thousand dollars." 

Daria was incredulous. "I don't have six thousand dollars." 

"It's an emergency!" 

John reached into his pocket and held out a quarter and three pennies. "Emergency, huh?" 

Quinn ignored him. "Here's what you do. Tell Mom and Dad that Dr. Shar says you need human growth hormone. They'll believe that." 

John looked at Quinn. "Quinn, without your heels, you're the same height as Daria." 

Quinn rotated her head quickly to face John. "I told you to shoo." She immediately turned back to Daria. "But instead, Dr. Shar will do me and charge them for you!" 

John leaned against a locker to carefully get out of slapping range. "How many things the term 'do me' suggests boggles the mind." 

Quinn glared at him. "I said, 'Shoo!'" 

Daria was getting irritated at Quinn and thought for a moment. _Hmm. I bet this was Dr. Shar's idea. It requires too much original thought to be Quinn's. _ "No, I don't feel like it." 

Quinn stamped her foot. "You've got to! Where else am I gonna get six thousand dollars?" 

John said, "Ask for donations?" 

Quinn's face brightened and she rushed away. 

Daria sighed. "I'm dragging you to my therapy." 

"She's gone, isn't she?" 

"Nrgh."

* * *

"I wasn't exaggerating when I said I didn't like kids, even when I was one," Daria explained to John as they prepared for the evening's events. 

"Think of small children as pack animals," John explained. "Make sure they know you're the boss…kind of like dealing with band members." 

"At least we're in the same boat." 

"You'll only have to deal with two children, not eight. And, yours won't be drunk." 

"Okay, you win, but this whole thing is still giving me the creeps. I've never done baby-sitting before." 

"I used to baby-sit my sister's kids. If they start to drive you nuts, tell them you know this great game called 'Cemetery.' They have to lie on the floor and pretend they're dead. The first one to move or make a sound loses." 

"Something like that might give me time to think about that stupid history paper." 

"I'm going to have my brain under sonic attack. Relax; I'll be there by eleven. We can panic together about the paper afterward." 

Daria checked that her bedroom door was almost closed and held both his hands. "Sweet talker." 

"I'll come over early to help if I can get away." 

Daria shook her head. "The Guptys said no boyfriends. Even if Quinn gets away with it, we can't take the chance." 

"Crap." He gently squeezed her hands. "Sorry." 

Daria gently kissed him. "Thanks for offering."

* * *

Trent and his occasional girlfriend, Monique, were in the front of the van as it crawled into the driveway. When John walked to the sliding side door, Monique pointed a thumb to the rear. "Sorry, Johnny, no space there. You'll need to crawl in through the back." 

"I should've known." John went to the back and slowly opened one door of the van, bracing a hand against the opening in case anything fell loose. 

When nothing tumbled out at him, he examined the small space available. "Damn good thing I'm skinny." He squeezed in and pulled the door closed before hollering over the stacked band gear, "I'm in." 

A chorus of voices from both Mystik Spiral and the Harpies called greetings to him. 

Max, the van's owner, yelled back, "Hang on, Johnny. The shocks are gone in back and it's ridin' on springs." 

The extended bouncing he felt as the van crossed the bump at the end of the driveway told him Max wasn't kidding. He ruefully grinned. "Great."

* * *

Taking a break after helping unload the Tank, John walked around downtown Lawndale a bit. He did a double-take and laughed when he saw Kevin in his ugly makeup, handing out five dollar bills to get people to say "hi" to him. "Leave it to Kevin to interpret Daria's words in a literal sense. Too bad the line's so long; it's tempting to relieve Kevin of some of his money." 

Still laughing, he headed back to the Zon. "After that, I might be able to face the evening."

* * *

"I'm Monique, that's Susie on bass, Anne on keyboard and Peggy on drums. We're the Harpies and we hope you have a good time. One, two, three…" 

The four women started to play with Monique singing. 

_Shrieking wind caresses my wings,   
Headlong and fearless diving   
Helpless prey's call in my ear sings,   
Hunting is my way of living_

Working his way outside, John shook his head. "Sometimes, those bands deserve each other." 

He walked across the street from the Zon and found a payphone that worked. After digging the folded note from his pocket, he dialed the number. 

After a couple rings, Daria said, "Hello. Gupty residence." 

"Hey, how're you holding up?" 

"They've gone from playing cemetery to playing lichen." 

In the background, he could hear children's voices. "Tad dropped a spore." 

"Did not! It was a raisin!" 

John grimaced. "Sounds like somebody lost." 

"Please tell me you're having as miserable a time as I am." 

"The Harpies were playing _Hunting For My Dinner_ when I stepped out." 

"Ouch." 

"And Mystik Spiral still has a set after them." 

"Want to know something truly frightening? These kids have a record that's worse than anything Mystik Spiral has played." 

"No." 

"Yep." 

"That's terrifying." 

"Still on for eleven?" 

"So far, so good." 

Daria begged, "Bring junk food."

* * *

Near the end of Mystic Spiral's set, Trent belted out: 

_You're an angel in black,   
You sure have a knack,_

"Oh, crap. He should know better than to sing that with her around." John closed his eyes in anticipation of the inevitable detonation. 

_For putting my heart on a shelf in the back,   
I'm waiting my turn,_

Monique stood on the edge of the crowd, glowing with rage. 

_Oh when will I learn?   
My poor heart, you're giving it freezer burn_

* * *

When Mystik Spiral left the stage after the set, Monique shrieked, "Trent! You miserable, stupid sonofabitch!" 

The band ground to a halt as Monique charged up into Trent's face. "You said you burned those freakin' lyrics!" 

"Monique…I tried, but I just couldn't, felt too much like…something." 

"It's going to feel like a boot in the balls if you ever play that again!" 

"Hey, it's art." 

"No, it's a song you wrote when you were pissed off at me." 

"Oh, yeah. That's right. Sorry." 

"Sorry! That's all you have to say?" 

"Umm." 

"Arrrgh!" Monique stomped away, the rest of the Harpies following. 

Jesse took a drink from his beer. "Uncool." 

John felt his pocket and breathed easier when he felt the keys to the Tank. "Come on guys, let's get the gear loaded." _Before you get loaded._

* * *

"Mooscle bound oapf!" Susie slurred at Jesse. "Coodn't play 'r way outta a doggie bag." 

"'Oggie bag?" Jesse perked up. "Burger'd be good." 

John pushed the side door shut on the two bands piled into the back of the van. "Shut the hell up," he grumbled. 

John looked down the street and saw a police car. He walked over and looked in the open window, recognizing the policeman normally assigned to the area. "Officer Parks, mind following me back to Trent's?" 

The policeman looked at the fifteen year old. "I really shouldn't let you drive that thing." 

"Yeah, I know it's a deathtrap, but do you want all of them in your holding pen overnight?" 

"It might do them some good." 

"They're fighting, and you know at least half of them are gonna hurl before the night's over." 

"Like any other bunch of drunks." 

John leaned forward just a little. "They might start singing." 

Parks rested his head on one hand. "Sarge would kill me. Okay." 

"Trent's new place is a lot closer than our old house, just behind Axel's." 

"I'll let you drive there, and no farther." 

"Deal. Thanks." 

John got into the driver's seat and pulled the keys from his pocket. Amplifiers were piled on the passenger seat to provide room for all eight band members to be poured into the back. 

Jesse and Susie were still kind of fighting. Max was passed out and Peggy was using his bald head as practice drums. Nick had crawled up on top of the stacked instruments and was fast asleep; Anne sat behind the passenger seat with her legs drawn up, nursing a wine cooler. Trent was passed out and Monique was still going on arguing about _Icebox Woman._

John started the van and slowly pulled away from the curb, with Officer Parks following. John drove scrupulously at the speed limit and carefully came to a stop at each sign and light. 

After he reached the alley behind Axel's Piercing Parlor and stopped, Officer Parks waved at John, saying "Good luck cleaning them up tomorrow!" 

John waved back. "They can clean themselves up." 

"And get your regular license soon!" 

John gave a short laugh. "As soon as I'm old enough." 

He climbed out and opened the door of Trent's apartment. Going back to the van, he escorted the mobile and semi-mobile band members inside. Grabbing each of the unconscious people under the armpits and dragging their feet, he pulled each inside and dumped them on the floor. 

He looked back out at the Tank. "Ah, crap, that piece of junk doesn't have locks. I better bring all their gear in, too."

* * *

Daria woke up to the sound of a key rattling in the door. She quickly closed her spiral notebook just as Mr. and Mrs. Gupty entered the house. 

Mrs. Gupty said, "Hi Daria, how did it go? Any problems?" 

Daria yawned and said, "It sure is hard to tear them away from their oral hygiene routines. But other than that..." 

"Well, thanks for coming over," Mr. Gupty said. "We'd hate to miss Couple's Therapy Night." 

Mrs. Gupty clasped her hands together and smiled. "I just love the new picture in your living room." 

"You were at my house?" Daria asked in surprise. 

Pleased, Mrs. Gupty told her, "Yes, and we had a breakthrough tonight. Your father cried." 

"Please, don't tell me why." 

Mr. Gupty said, "We apologize for our tardiness. Daria, wasn't a young man supposed to be here at eleven to escort you home?" 

Daria looked at her watch. 11:30. "Um, yeah. He must've been delayed by something." 

"Daria, I like the new look," Mrs. Gupty said in praise. 

Daria fingered the one of her newly braided pigtails that made her vaguely look like Pippi Longstocking. "Um, yeah. Tricia wanted to see what they looked like. Now, if you don't mind." Daria pulled the ribbons from each and started to unbraid them. 

Disappointed, Mrs. Gupty said, "Oh." 

"She knows what they look like now. She might try them later on herself." 

Mrs. Gupty recovered. "Oh." She opened her purse and removed some money. "Before I forget, here you go, Daria." 

Daria accepted the money and visually counted it before putting it into her jacket pocket. "Thanks." 

Mr. Gupty answered a knock at the door. Exhausted, John said, 'Hi. Sorry I'm late. I'm here to walk Daria home." 

Daria moved toward him. "Mr. and Mrs. Gupty, this is John." 

"Nice to meet you, young man." Mr. Gupty shook his hand. "Are you all right?" 

He nodded. "Long story, tired, okay." 

Daria was already out of the door. "It's running late and we really should be going. Good night." 

Both Guptys said, "Good night, Daria." 

John quickly followed. "Good night." 

Hearing the door lock click, Daria said to John, "You're late." 

John looked at her and sighed. "No kidding, I had to unload the Tank by myself." 

"What about the bands?" 

"Worthless. I dumped all of them and their gear in Trent's apartment." 

"Sounds like fun." 

John snorted a small laugh. "Loads. Jesse's not going to be happy about his shirt." 

Dubious, Daria said, "Please, don't tell me why." 

"You've got a ten-thousand yard stare." Worried, John asked, "What kind of monsters were those kids?" 

"They weren't really monsters, but still…very disturbing. I think I have the subject for my paper." 

"Hmm?" 

Daria looked back and lightly shuddered. "Let's get away from here." 

John shrugged. "Okay." He stooped over and picked up a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips he'd hidden behind a shrub. John tore it open and presented it to Daria. "As requested." 

Daria reached in and said with clear sincerity, "Thank you." She removed a handful and savored each chip individually. 

They started down the sidewalk toward home. John pulled Daria close for mutual warmth against the late fall wind. She put an arm around his waist and felt herself relax some in his embrace. 

Daria looked up at the crescent moon shining down on them. "How about we not worry about things tonight and enjoy the walk?" 

John looked up and noticed the moon. "Deal."

* * *

In the school hall several days later, John told Daria, "I'll catch you in history." 

"Yeah, history." She watched him start to walk away and slowly turned to go to the gym for PE class. 

Quinn rushed up, complaining, "Some people are so shallow!" 

John and Daria stopped. John remained several steps away, listening. 

Daria said, "Wow, Quinn. Thanks for the news flash." 

"Nobody'll donate for my surgery!" 

"Oh, that." 

"How am I going to get the money for Dr. Shar!" 

John stopped before speaking and only thought, _Some of the girls working…nah, better not even think any farther._

Daria quietly said, "Listen Quinn..." 

"You know, I should get boobs," Quinn speculated. "I bet if I got the boobs on credit I can get the rest of the money in no time." 

"Quinn..." 

"Or maybe Dr. Shar will give me a part time job sweeping up fat or something." 

"Quinn..." 

Quinn's frustration overflowed as she explained, "I mean, I like being attractive and popular. It's like, me, okay? So if Dr. Shar makes everyone else attractive and popular then I'll have to be even more attractive just to keep up! And then if they, like, go back to her to catch up to me, then I'll have to go back and pretty soon it'll be like one of those vicious things!" Quinn calmed and asked, almost pleading, "Where will it end Daria, where will it end?" 

Daria half-sighed. "You don't need surgery Quinn. I was hoping it wouldn't come to this and I'll deny I ever said it. But there's nothing wrong with you, physically. You've got the kind of looks that make other girls mentally ill. So stop it. You don't need any plastic surgery. You're perfect." 

Noticing movement from the corner of her eye, Quinn said, "Why do I even bother talking to you?" 

Stacy and Tiffany walked up, holding their noses and alternately saying, "Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod." 

Quinn instantly shifted her attention. "Ohmigod what?" 

Stacy said, "Did you hear what happened to Brooke?" 

"Yeah," Quinn said. "She's super cute." 

Tiffany said, "She had a nasal relapse." 

Daria walked away and pulled John with. "There's nothing we can do for them now." 

John leaned next to Daria's ear. "That's probably the nicest thing I've heard you say to her." 

"Don't let it out, I know where you live." 

"Your secret's safe. We better get to gym. I don't want Coach Gibson bitching about me being late and I don't want Ms. Morris hounding me at track practice to get you there on time." 

"PE: Hell in high school. See you later." 

"Later."

* * *

Mr. DeMartino waited until the end of history class to return papers, giving his usual commentary with each one. "Brittany, although your topic, _The Cult of Abs_, was an intriguing one, I'm afraid that the choice of photo collage, rather than actual text, did not work to your advantage." 

The blonde cheerleader looked at her paper. "D, bummer. And I ruined all my magazines." 

He handed Daria her paper. "Your paper was excellent. Commentary on the psychological effects was hair-raising, although some of the techniques described are prohibited by the Geneva Convention. I hope your interview subjects get help soon." 

John was the last student to get a paper back. "Mr. Lane. If not for the fact that I still have nightmares about those alleged carriers of human DNA that were the subjects of your paper, I never would have believed it." 

The bell rang and students quickly filed out of the room. 

John read the title of Daria's paper as they walked, _"The Real-Life Results of Childhood Mind Control."_

Daria read his title, _"Effects of Acoustic and Chemical Torture. A Replicated Study."_

John smiled. "Talk about an efficient use of non-quality time."

* * *

After dinner, John spent part of the evening painting in his room while Daria wrote in hers. He'd just finished sketching in his design when he stretched and said, "Break time." 

Just as he stepped from his room, John saw Quinn in front of Daria's closed door, uncertain. He stepped back and watched. After several seconds, Quinn barely said above a whisper, "Thanks, Daria." She turned away and John ducked back into his room. 

Just before going into her room, Quinn turned back to Daria's, again whispering, "You don't need any surgery either. You're pretty, even if you hide it," before going into her room. 

John poked his head back out. _Nobody would ever believe me if I told them._

* * *

Dialog from:   
_Pinch Sitter_ by Anne D. Bernstein   
_Too Cute_ by Larry Doyle 

_Icebox Woman _lyrics from:   
_Road Worrier_ by Anne D. Bernstein 

Thanks to Mr. Orange, Kristen Bealer, and Ipswichfan for beta reading. 

May 2005   



	6. Morgendorffer Prison Blues

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. 

This is the sixth John Lane story 

Richard Lobinske

**Morgendorffer Prison Blues**

John Lane smiled as Daria Morgendorffer leaned against him, lightly dozing. He put one arm around her small frame and enjoyed the moment of closeness as they rode in the back of his brother's bandmate, Jesse Moreno's car. 

Jesse asked, "Johnny, how'd you like the set tonight?" 

Keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing his girlfriend, John answered, "Sounds like the band practiced a couple times this week." _Instead of every couple of weeks._

"Yeah, man. We're like, gettin' real serious." 

"Um, okay." 

"This the place?" 

"Yeah." 

Jesse stopped the car in front of the Morgendorffer house. John carefully shook Daria's shoulder. 

"Hmm?" she mumbled. 

"We're home." 

Daria focused her eyes on her watch. "Oh. Oh crap, it's that late? We better get in." 

John opened the car door. "The sooner, the better." 

Holding hands, they got out and Daria whispered back inside, "Thanks." 

Trying to move as silently as possible after Jesse drove way, Daria had her door key out when they heard Daria's sister, Quinn, say from behind a shrub, "Hold it, you two." 

Daria looked at her in annoyance. "Funny." 

Quinn had a predatory smile. "What are you two doing out so late?" 

"We were planning our world takeover," John said. "Now that you've seen us, we'll have to kill you." 

"Ha, ha." 

"You're usually out this late." Daria asked, "Can you tell us how to sneak in?" 

"Well, for one thing, stop tiptoeing around like a couple of geeks." Quinn looked from one to the other. "Have a little dignity." 

Daria sighed. "If we had any dignity, do you think we'd be out here letting you try and teach us how to be cool?" 

After muttering, "Whatever," Quinn rolled her eyes and looked away. 

From his upstairs bedroom window, Jake yelled, "What's going on down there!" 

John's shoulders slumped. "Aw, crap." 

"More threatening," Helen said from behind Jake. 

"Let me handle it. Darn it!" he said to his wife before yelling back down at the door, "What's going on down there!" 

John made a hand motion toward the front door before he stepped aside to be clearly seen by Jake and Helen. He called up to them, "I'm about to get my butt served on a platter?" 

Jake asked, "John? What are you doing out there?" 

Quinn let out a loud sigh and groaned, "Way to go, just draw attention to us." 

Helen stuck her head out the window. "Quinn! What are you doing out there with John?" 

Daria glared at Quinn and John dropped his head back in frustration.

* * *

Late the following morning, Daria and John were waiting on a sofa when Jake and Helen came downstairs and sat down. 

Quinn paced the room and whined at the same speed, "I can't believe you thought I was going out with John! Blech!" 

"I seem to recall that was John's reaction to the same concept," Daria sharply replied. 

Helen firmly said, "Don't start. Your father and I are very upset that all of you broke your curfew last night." 

Daria said, "I didn't know we had a curfew." 

"Well, that's interesting Daria," Jake added, "I didn't either, but according to your mother..." 

Helen rebuked him. "Jake!" When he stopped, she turned to the teens, "The point is all of you were out way too late, which is why tonight we're going to..." 

Quinn cut her off, saying, "Destroy our lives with your crushing rules and regulations?" She dramatically held her throat. "I can't breathe, mother, I can't breathe!" 

John leaned toward Daria. "If only it were true." 

Helen said back, "No, tonight we're going to set some…boundaries. And we'd like your input." 

"Well everybody knows that late curfews should go to people who can use them," Quinn said matter-of-factly. "Attractive and popular people with lots of friends." 

Daria countered, "Wow! Who said that? Thomas Jefferson? Or was it Barbie?" 

"It can't be her, she has only one boyfriend," John added with a smirk. "Therefore, she's not popular enough." 

Jake pondered, "It can't be Jefferson..." 

Quinn looked at her father with annoyance. "Of course not. No pin-headed historical person could ever make that much sense." 

"After all, look at his taste in clothes," John said. 

Quinn turned in surprise. "Exactly! I mean, how can you take anyone who wears something like that seriously?" 

Helen gazed at the youths and said in frustration, "All right kids, forget the input." 

Helen held up and unfolded a Ten Commandments-looking cardboard cutout with "Rules" marked across the top. 

Daria couldn't resist. "Hey, does this mean we get to wander in the desert for forty years?" 

Helen gave Daria a tired smile. "After much hard work, your father and I have come up with a set of guidelines I think we all can live by." 

"That's right! A lot of thought went into this," Jake excitedly said before whispering to Helen, "Do I have to read these?" 

Helen whispered, "Later." 

"Too bad you didn't hire Charlton Heston to make the presentation," John said. 

Quinn looked at the rules for a couple seconds. "Wow, the new system seems really great and interesting and I can't wait to sit down and really read through it." 

Daria rolled her eyes, "Oh brother." 

Quinn started to walk away. "But right now, I sort of have to go. I have a date." 

"You can't go out on a date, it says right here that we don't permit that on a school night." Helen pointed to some print on the tablet. "Rule Eighteen." 

John started to say, "That's going to put a…." He stopped and smiled, "Hmm." 

Quinn quickly covered herself. "You know what? You're confused about my use of the word date. I have a date to meet with my…uh…algebra study group." 

Jake responded, "Oh, well, that sounds okay." 

Hesitant, Helen said, "All right. But as per the procedure outlined in Rules Twenty-One through Twenty-Six, make sure you sign in when you get back." 

Quinn fired off a "Yeah bye," and headed out, saying, "And don't wait up, you know how study groups are." 

"Good for you, Quinn!" Jake said. "Study hard!" 

When John noticed Daria about to say something, he nudged her and quietly said, "Shh. Let her have the rope."

* * *

A little later that evening, Daria came into his room and pulled the door almost closed. "You're still a bit ticked at her, aren't you?" 

John nodded. "I could've gotten both of you in unnoticed if she'd kept her mouth shut." 

"Instead, Mom went into parental overload when they discovered all three of us out there." Daria rose up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss. "But thanks for trying."

* * *

Running almost on autopilot the next morning, John methodically spooned cereal into his mouth. Daria sat next to him at the breakfast counter, waiting for her toast. 

Jake sat with them. When he noticed Quinn, still dressed in her nightshirt drag into the kitchen, he started to sing, "There she is, Miss American Bookworm." 

Everyone looked at him as if he were crazy. Helen, near the refrigerator, rolled her eyes. 

Jake said to Quinn, "You really must have been burning the midnight oil last night." 

Sleepy and not comprehending, Quinn said, "We weren't burning anything." 

"I mean your algebra study group." 

Still confused, she asked, "What are you talking about?" 

"The study group you went to. The sign-in sheet said you got back at eleven-thirty." Jake began to sound suspicious. "But now that I think about it, I went to bed at eleven-forty-five. Hey, I thought you got that watch fixed?" 

Daria looked at John beginning to smirk and joined in. "A couple of times." Right after her toast popped up, she said, "Prepare to be busted." 

Panicked, Quinn looked from Daria's small smile, to John's sure grin, to Jake's frown to Helen's scowl. 

Helen said in her lawyer voice, "Quinn, were you at a study group last night or did you go on a date?" 

"Don't you see how your rules are strangling me?" Quinn opted for an emotional tactic. "Yes, I went on a date, but we're in love and all the rules and regulations in the world can't stop that." 

Surprised, Jake said, "In love?" 

Helen continued the cross-examination. "With whom?" 

John sat back and watched with satisfaction as Quinn squirmed. 

"His name is Cliff. Oop, no wait, it's Clint. I'm not positive but I can find out at school." 

His emotions rising, Jake let out, "You don't even know his name! And you're in love with him!" 

Quinn tried to calm her father down. "You know what? You're confused about my use of the word love." 

Jake wasn't mollified. "Do you have any idea how many of these rules you've broken?" 

Daria motioned to the rules and gave a "watch this" smirk to John before she reached over and folded it closed to hide the text. "How many Dad? And which ones?" 

Jake stammered, "Wha…what's that got to do with it?" 

Quinn said in frustration, "Argh! Okay, ground me." 

Helen picked up the rules and opened them, saying, "I wish it were that simple." 

Jake firmly said, "Exactly," and then less firmly, "What?" 

Helen pointed to the words "FAMILY COURT."

* * *

Daria pulled a book from her locker. "Don't look at me; this is a totally new form of torture." 

John shrugged. "With a name like Family Court, I'd figured it was a family classic." 

"Nope. This is a new insanity and I don't know what to expect." 

"Probably not justice?" 

Jodie Landon approached the two. "Hey, you guys wanna buy tickets for the faculty-DJ roller hockey game?" 

Daria said, "Are you kidding?" 

John pulled a couple dollars from his wallet. "We'll take two." 

Daria exclaimed, "What? You're gonna pay to watch teachers skate around with DJs? Classic rock DJs?" 

"You weren't here last year, Daria," Jodie said with a puckish smile. "Mr. DeMartino had to have an emergency angioplasty. He almost died." 

John opened one eye wide in imitation of the teacher. "But a voice told him that his work here on Earth wasn't finished. Some of the students weren't wetting the bed yet. This year I bet he's more determined than ever to snatch victory from the jaws of death." 

Daria asked, "What are you saying?" 

Jodie said, "You know how there are people go to car races on the chance that they might see a crash?" 

Daria accepted the tickets that John had purchased. "I'm in."

* * *

"What do those Supreme Court judges wear under their robes? Declassified government Polaroids next, on _Sick, Sad World_," the television announced to John, Daria, Jake and Quinn in the living room. 

When Helen walked in, Jake said, "Hi, honey." 

She surveyed the room. "Is everybody ready for their day in court?" 

"Can't you just punish us?" Quinn asked. "I'd like to pay my check to society and get on with my life." 

"Your father and I want you to have a fair hearing. Then we'll punish you." 

"But a court procedure? Isn't that a little bureaucratic?" Daria observed. 

Helen said, "Bureaucracy is the price we pay for impartiality." 

Jake guessed, "Jefferson." 

Helen corrected him. "Stalin." She faced the others to say, "It's all about fairness, that's why your father will make a terrific judge." 

Jake grinned. "I get to be the judge?" 

While he pushed a large chair in front of the television, John said to Daria, "He gets to be the judge?" 

She said to him, "This is looking bad," before saying to her parents, "Look, someone once said, 'The most important thing in life is not to look like a geek.' Do you have any idea how geeky all of this is?" 

Jake admonished her with, "That's it Daria, all I can say is that I hope you have a darn good defense lawyer." 

Daria turned to Helen. "A lawyer? Mom?" 

Like a lioness eyeing a gazelle, Helen said, "Sorry, honey, I'm prosecuting. And if I do say so myself, you're going down." 

John sighed. "So much for impartiality and fairness." 

Helen glared at him. "John. At least you had the honesty to come forward when you were outside the other night. We had considered leniency for that, but if you continue to question these proceedings, we will show no mercy." 

John looked at her, dumbfounded. _You have no idea of what I was doing, do you?_

* * *

With a grunt of relief as he placed the large chair on top of the coffee table, Jake said, "There," and sat down. 

Looking at Jake, John fought down a snicker as he mentally juxtaposed an image of a barbarian king upon a throne of skulls. I'll remember that. It'll make a good painting. 

Jake solemnly intoned, "Family court is now in session." 

Daria whispered to John, "You have that 'I was just inspired look' on your face." 

In return, he whispered, "Jake the Barbarian." 

With a motion of his hand, Jake said, "All rise." 

Quinn and Helen stood quickly, while Daria and John took their time while deciding if Jake was serious. 

He said, "Please be seated. The court calls the case of the family versus John Lane, Daria and Quinn Morgendorffer." 

Tired, Daria asked, "Dad, what is this?" 

"Dad?" Jake said, "I don't see any Dad." 

Helen interrupted. "Your Honor, may the family proceed with our opening statements?" 

"Will you approach the bench, please, councilor?" Jake winked at Helen. When she neared, he whispered, "How do I look?" 

Shaking her head as she stepped away, Helen said, "Your Honor, let me make it clear at the outset that this is not a witch hunt. Daria, Quinn and John are fine young people who have often made us proud." 

John, Daria and Quinn, in rare unity, said, "But..." 

"But that doesn't make them exempt from the simple truth that rules are rules." 

Quinn bounced up to answer the ringing telephone. While she was gone, Helen said after her "Or boundaries." 

John watched and muttered, "Damn, she's about to do it again." 

When she came back, Quinn said, "Your honor I have to go. I, um, made an arrangement to work, uh, on the school's adopt-a-highway…prior to this court date." 

Helen said, "But we haven't even called you to the stand yet." 

"Well, I was going to plead guilty or whatever anyway. I throw myself on the mercy of this um, honorable court." 

"The court grants you permission," Jake proclaimed. 

Quinn quickly said, "Thanks!" and almost sprinted out of the house. 

Helen faced Daria and John. "Now then." 

Daria looked at John, who shrugged, and she rose. "Your honor, we plead guilty. And place our faith in your wisdom, compassion, and your keen sense in fair play." 

Jake nodded. "Well said. Grounded for a month." 

Daria exclaimed, "What? Quinn's the one that stayed out late last night." 

"We have to set boundaries, Daria," Helen warned. "Nobody said the justice system would be fair." 

Jake speculated. "Actually, I think somebody did say that, Jefferson or somebody..." 

"What have I told you about backing me up?" Helen snapped. 

Jake added, "Sorry, the sentence stands. All three of you are grounded for a month." 

Back to Daria and John, Helen said, "Grounding also means that doors stay open at all times." 

John looked up in disgust. "At least Quinn has a nasty surprise waiting for her when she gets home."

* * *

Quinn's cry of, "I'm what!" echoed through the house. 

Seated together on her bed, John squeezed Daria's hand softly. "At least there is some justice." 

Daria looked at the open door of her room. "A small consolation." 

"But I'll take it." 

Daria looked at him. "Me, too. Plus, we'll be together and she'll be cut off from her pack."

* * *

While running in gym class, Mack motioned for John to slow down so they could talk. "Daria mentioned that you two are grounded and won't make the hockey game." 

"Yeah. Trust me; there were some advantages to absentee parents." 

"Too bad, the pool for what time Mr. DeMartino blows out is up to a hundred and sixty bucks." 

"That'd be cool to win." 

"Any chance of getting time off for good behavior?" 

"It's not looking that way." 

"At least you two get to be together." 

"With the grounding, we're back to keeping the doors completely open. The most Daria and I can do is hold hands now and then." 

"And I thought the Landons kept a close eye on me and Jodie." 

"Just think of how bad they'd be if you lived in the same house." 

"I'd rather not, but I can see your point." 

"Thanks. Uh, excuse me." 

"Later." 

John picked up his pace and was soon alone on the track with his thoughts.

* * *

Daria set her fork down and looked at the wall clock. "Now off to the exercise yard before lockup." 

Jake said, "Hey that's right! Any final words before grounding officially begins?" 

Quinn complained, "This sucks!" 

Helen chided, "What have I said about using that word?" 

"That you'll ground me or something?" 

"You know Quinn," John slowly said, "A simple ground wire to a lightning rod would solve a lot of your problems." 

When the clock chimed, Helen said, "See? This will fly by in no time."

* * *

Quinn stared into John's room. Daria sat on his bed, reading _Moby Dick,_ while he painted Capt. Ahab driving a harpoon into a white whale. She said, "Jeez. Reading stories about animals and drawing them. How second grade can you two be?" and stalked away to her room. 

John turned the painting toward Daria, revealing that Capt. Ahab that looked remarkably like Helen. 

Daria smiled and said, "Nice, but which one of us is the whale?" 

"Who do you think?" 

"But, she'd never wear white after Labor Day." 

"Just part of the horror." 

"And just think of all the blubber."

* * *

Incarcerate. John watched in mild awe as Daria put the Scrabble tiles down to extend Jake's placement of the word "rate" on the board. _Damn, she's good, and she used all seven of her letters in one shot. That's gonna be worth some points. _

While Daria was adding up her points and her parents were still letting the word soak in, John examined the board and his tiles. _Hmm. It's a cheap shot, but I'll take it. _ He placed a "d" after Daria's word to spell "incarcerated."

* * *

At Pizza Prince, Mack and Jodie rolled their eyes and controlled their laughter when overhearing Kevin and Brittany. 

Kevin tried to explain, "Then she said her parents are trying to change her generic makeup or something! And add John's to it." 

Brittany squeaked, "They really should. I hate that generic makeup; it gives me hives! But why would John be wearing makeup?" 

"I don't know, but it's so freaky, babe. I mean, they're weird enough as it is."

* * *

John sat on his bed, self-critiquing a painting as the final touches dried. Quinn looked through the open door and said, "Watching paint dry? The only thing worse is watching somebody else's paint dry."

* * *

Concerned about the sound, Jake went up to Daria's room and knocked on the door. When there was no answer after a second, he slowly opened it and looked in, relieved that Daria was alone. He said, "Yeah, hi Daria. I was kind of wondering if maybe you could stop now." 

Daria stopped playing her harmonica and said, "Dad, these tired bones may be locked behind prison walls, but when I play this rusty old harp, my soul flies, free as a bird." 

Sorry to disturb her, Jake said, "I'm sorry, honey, you go on and play." 

"Thank you," was her quiet response. 

After he closed the door, she moved closer to it and roughly played the opening bars of _Dueling Banjos._ From John's room, the next bars, also inexpertly played on harmonica, replied.

* * *

"Can you teach me how to paint?" Quinn asked. 

John rolled off his bed. "What brought that on?" 

"Ugh. I asked Daria for something to read and she's pulling my leg about some story about a girl everyone fights over and a giant horse." 

"_The Iliad._" 

"Yeah, that was…you know it?" 

"Well…okay, I read the Cliff's Notes." 

"She wasn't joking?" 

"No." 

"Oh." 

John said quietly, "In her own way, she was trying to be nice to you." 

"I thought she was teasing me." 

"She was still doing that." 

"But why?" 

"Maybe she likes you. Trent and I tease each other all the time." 

Quinn hesitantly smiled. "Um, thanks."

* * *

John could hear Helen yell, "Jake! You cannot revoke their grounding," as he walked to the door. 

Jake said, "But I'm losing." 

John chuckled as he opened the door for Mack and Jodie. 

Mack said, "See, he's okay. John, what's so funny?" 

John tilted his head toward the kitchen. "Daria's cleaning her parents' clocks at Monopoly." 

Jodie asked, "You're not playing?" 

"She's already cleaned mine." 

Mack and Jodie both laughed at that. 

Jodie said, "There've been a lot of rumors about what you've been going through. Some of them quite bizarre." 

Daria walked up behind John and said, "It's hell in here." 

Mack asked, "When does it end? John mentioned the chance for early release was slim." 

"I don't care," Daria told them. "It's been too long already. We've paid our debt." 

Jodie said, "You mean..." 

"That's right, we're bustin' out."

* * *

Daria slipped into John's room, holding the cordless phone. "Forget the harmonica tapes. Mom and Dad are both working late; we can just walk out." 

"I knew they couldn't keep up the pace. But what about Quinn?" 

"I'm betting that she'll have something lined up in seconds and be out longer than we are." 

"True. Well, we better get going, in case Trent forgot to shut the car off."

* * *

When John and Daria reached the front door, Quinn said, "Hello?" 

Daria told her, "Mom and Dad are taking the night off from being jailers, so we're taking the night off, too." 

"You're busting out?" 

John said, "Quinn, do you really want us to hang around tonight with both your parent's gone?" 

Quinn stammered, "Oh, um, no. Go on, have fun kids." 

Daria eyed her sister. "I suspect you have some scam worked out for yourself but since I can't prove anything, I'm asking you not to rat on us." 

Quinn stroked her chin. "Hmm, okay yes, I will do this thing you ask. But one day I may ask a favor of you." 

Daria rolled her eyes. "Never mind."

* * *

Sitting in the high school gym bleachers with Jodie, Kevin and Brittany, Mack pointed to Daria and John entering. "Hey look, they're loose." 

Jodie turned to Brittany and said, "See? I told you they were okay." 

"She looks fine, for her." Brittany twirled her hair. "And it doesn't look like John's wearing makeup." 

Kevin watched them with suspicion. "I don't know."

* * *

John put his arm around Daria as they sat and allowed himself to relax against her warmth. Daria hesitantly put her arm around him and whispered, "We're not normally this public." 

"Nobody's watching us. I think something's about to happen down there." 

On the court, Mr. DeMartino was circling his old roller-hockey nemesis, Rock-n-Roll Randy, and abruptly took control of the puck, moving toward the DJ's goal. 

Seeing the teacher getting away, Randy slammed his hockey stick into Mr. DeMartino's knee, sending him to the floor. 

About halfway down the bleachers, the usually quiet Goth girl, Andrea, pumped her fist in the air and yelled, "Yes!" 

Randy circled around DeMartino and boasted, "Woohoo! Rock 'n roll power forever!" 

Mr. DeMartino growled, "My knee!" and pushed himself up. 

Andrea wadded up her pool ticket. "Damn." 

Daria leaned her head on John's shoulder. "So close. I bet that was just the teaser; the real blow-out will come later." 

John kissed the top of her head. "Optimist." 

She tilted her head up and kissed him on the lips. "Only when it comes to other peoples misery." 

Kevin shaded his eyes and watched Daria and John. "Whoa. They like, really did something to them. That's gross." 

Brittany followed his look. "What, babe?" 

"They kissed." Kevin shuddered. 

Jodie looked at Kevin, confused. "Yeah." 

Kevin shook his head. "But they like, live together like brother and sister. Isn't that like, illegal for them to do that thing…you know…incense." 

Mack leaned over. "Kevin, they're not related." 

Jodie said, "Daria's parents are John's guardians. Daria and John are not related. What they're doing is okay." 

Kevin's eyes popped open. "You mean, John likes her…as a babe? That's just too freaky." 

Brittany watched Daria and John contentedly sitting together. She sighed and frowned at Kevin.

* * *

Helen opened the door found the silence of the house disconcerting. After a couple moments, she saw Quinn asleep on a sofa with a book on her chest and John's cats, Zachary and Tyler, asleep on her lap. Helen quietly said, "Quinn?" 

Quinn startled awake and pushed the book away. "Ugh! Get off me!" 

The book slid into Zachary, who meowed in disdain and jumped to the floor, making sure his hind claws were extended as he pushed off. Tyler jumped to the other end of the sofa and rebuked Quinn from there. 

Helen asked, "Where are Daria and John?"

* * *

"Mr. DeMartino didn't go down, but you have to admit that Barch beating up Randy was worth the admission price," John said to Daria as they approached the house. 

Daria pointed to the driveway and a young man tossing pebbles against Quinn's window. "They just never seem to stop." 

The boy called up toward the window, "Quinn! Quinn!" 

She opened it and said, "Tommy, go away." 

"But you said..." 

Quinn snapped, "You're two hours late, jerk." 

The boy walked away and Daria and John walked up. 

Quinn said, "Oh, hi Daria, John."

* * *

Daria, John and Quinn sat on sofas in the living room, waiting for Helen and Jake. Daria said to her sister, "Um, thanks for not ratting us out last night." 

Quinn shrugged. "It was fun watching you climb up the lattice before Mom looked in your room, besides; I liked that book." 

"What book?" 

"_The Iliad_. I don't know if that Homer guy could write any stuffier, but I liked it. Although the idea of Mom having the same name…brr." 

Helen came in. "Children, we're very proud of how you handled yourselves yesterday. None of you snuck out or had anybody come over." 

Jake grinned. "So we have a surprise for you." 

After a moment, John said, "Well?" 

Helen said, "We're putting all of you on parole. You'll have to call home if you're going to be later than seven, but otherwise, the grounding is over. You've proven that you understand the need for discipline." 

Daria discreetly watched Quinn as she answered Helen, "Um, wow. Thanks." 

Quinn rushed up to her room, calling over her shoulder, "Okay, if Tommy calls, tell him I'm on my way." 

Helen sighed and lowered her head. 

Daria held up her harmonica. "The week wasn't a total loss; would you like to hear some Junior Wells?" 

Helen glared at the musical instrument. "If you two promise to make those things go away, you can stay out late tonight." 

Jake said, "Sure, ten, ten-thirty. Have fun."

* * *

Seated at Pizza Prince, Daria told John, "Now, we owe Quinn big-time. That has me worried." 

"But it might be worth it, look at what you got her to read." 

"Um, yeah. You know she's not as dumb as she pretends to be." 

"I'm…starting to figure that out." 

When Kevin walked up to the table, Daria said, "Kevin, I already told you, my parents did not conduct experiments on us." 

He waved his hand dismissively. "I know, I know, but seriously, now tell me the truth." 

Daria sighed and said, "All right, John had a magnetic device implanted in his head." 

John raised an eyebrow. 

"No, no. Not that." Kevin asked, "Are you like, John's babe or something?" 

"John is my…boyfriend." 

John reached over and held Daria's hands. 

Kevin faced John. "She's like, a brain. Doesn't that, uh, cause problems?" 

John softly ran his thumbs over the backs of Daria's hands and looked straight at Kevin. "Trust me: it doesn't, and it has its advantages." 

"Um…like what?" 

"Think about it." 

Daria gave him a small smile. "If you figure it out, it could make you unpopular." 

Kevin stepped back as if threatened. "Whoa, dude, that is so uncool." 

John leaned toward him a bit and conspiratorially said, "It's the price you pay, but it's worth it." 

Kevin stepped back once more before turning and fleeing. 

Daria smiled at John. "There's no sadder sight on this earth, than a football player trying to think." 

"Who said that?" 

"I believe it was Jefferson."

* * *

Dialog from:   
_The Big House_ by Sam Johnson and Chris Marcil via the Outpost Daria transcript 

Thanks to Ipswichfan, Mr. Orange, and Kristen Bealer for beta reading.   



	7. Lessons of Spring

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. 

This is the seventh John Lane story 

Richard Lobinske 

**Lessons of Spring**

"Hey Trent, isn't that Johnny and Daria?" Jesse Moreno asked from the passenger seat of the black van he and Trent Lane had borrowed from their band's drummer, Max. 

Trent smiled, "Yeah, it is. Let's offer them a ride." 

"Cool." 

Trent stopped the van next to his younger brother and his girlfriend walking hand-in-hand down the sidewalk. John's black hair was still damp from showering after track practice. 

John stopped and turned. "What's up with the Tank? Did the big blue bomb explode again?" 

Jesse said, "Nah. Wanna ride?" 

Daria shrugged. "Hey, I'm not the one who ran three miles today." 

John slid the van's side door open. "I did, so I'll take it." 

Daria followed him inside and smacked her head on the low overhead. "Ow." 

Trent said without turning, "Watch your head." 

Daria rubbed her head and sat beside John on a steamer trunk on the floor in back. "All the modern safety devices I see." 

Trent laughed and coughed. "Yeah, we probably should talk Max into puttin' the seat back in." 

"But then he wouldn't have a sofa," Jesse remarked. 

Trent started the van back up and headed down the street. "Or a bed." 

"Why do you have the Tank?" John asked. "Gig tonight?" 

"Nah, we're goin' to Alternapalooza this weekend." 

John's face lit up. "You're going to Alternapalooza?" 

"Yeah, it's way out in Swedesville" 

"And you didn't think Trent's car would make it?" 

"Yeah, and the Tank's indestructible." 

"More like inscrutable," Daria said. 

Trent laughed and didn't swerve early enough to dodge a pothole, causing the van to jump and shake on it's worn out shocks. "Whoa, didn't see that one coming." 

"Let us know if you do see one coming," John said as her turned to Daria, who was now sitting on the van floor behind the trunk with her skirt spread out around her. 

Jesse sniffed. "Anybody else smell peanut-butter?" 

Daria looked uneasy and leaned to the side. She carefully reached under her skirt and peeled some offending object off her rear, holding it out toward John without looking at it. "What was I sitting on?" 

"Looks like a sandwich…and no need for an autopsy to know how long it's been here." He said and took it from her. 

Daria turned back with a queasy expression. "And it's smeared all over my butt." 

Trent looked over his shoulder. "Sorry. Next time, I'll warn you if I see one coming." 

"Um, thanks." Daria carefully sat on the trunk and leaned against John to keep from sitting on the remains. "I don't suppose you would have something like a paper towel in here, would you?" 

Jesse rummaged around at his feet and handed an oily cloth rag back. "We've only checked the oil a few times with that one." 

"I'll pass." 

Trent said, "You know Jess, this thing eats gas. I don't know what we're going to do for gas money." 

"We could probably scrounge some up, couldn't we Daria?" John said. 

"I guess." 

Trent smiled. "Cool, we're there. If you can stand be cooped up with Jesse and me for four hours." 

Daria looked around the van. "What did I just get myself into?"

* * *

Seated around the dinner table with her family, Helen asked Quinn, "What is that thing on your arm?" 

Quinn rolled her arm to show a simple tattoo. "Don't worry Mom, it's fake." 

Daria looked over from her dinner. "Aww, you got a tattoo to match your personality." 

"I'm going to Alternapalooza this weekend," Quinn said. "This is so I'll fit in." 

Daria smirked. "And if some guy named Pigpen asks you to be his old lady, hell, you'll be ready." 

Quinn expertly said, "I'm also thinking of having my belly button pierced at the mall..." 

John raised one eyebrow at Quinn. _I wonder if Daria…nah, she wouldn't._

"What?" Flustered, Jake said, "No daughter of mine is going to mutilate her body for the sake of some fad." 

Quinn sweetly smiled. "Then can I have twenty-nine, ninety-five for a removal nose ring? No piercing required." 

"Good idea," Daria added. "You don't need any more holes in your head." 

Helen warned, "Daria..." 

Quinn asked, "Hey Mom, did you go to any festivals back in the sixties?" 

Distracted, Helen half reminisced and said, "Oh sure, I did my share of partying." 

Daria chimed in. "You mean you experimented with..." 

"No!" Helen shot back. Changing the subject, she said, "Your father went to one of the most famous festivals of the decade." 

Somewhat awed, Quinn inquired, "Woodstock?" 

Jake dreamily said, "Altamont..." before suddenly becoming serious. "Terrible tragedy, but I demanded my money back and I got it." 

Daria asked, "Wasn't Altamont free?" 

"Ha, ha." Jake proclaimed, "That's the same line they tried to use on me." 

Helen looked closer at Daria. "What did you do to your head?" 

Daria reached up to the sore spot just below her hairline. "I accidentally bumped it getting into the Tank when Trent gave us a ride home." 

"Isn't that the van the he drives sometimes?" 

"Yeah, it really belongs to Max. It's a little safer for long distances or hauling cargo." 

Helen nodded. "So, do you two have any plans for the first weekend of your spring break?" 

"Well, um." John hesitated before saying, "Trent invited us to go with him and Jesse to Alternapalooza." 

In reply to Quinn's gasp, Daria said, "Don't panic, I think we'll be able to lose each other in a crowd of ten thousand." 

Quinn settled down. "I guess. You're not going wearing your usual, are you?" 

"I hadn't thought about it." 

"Daria," Quinn said with a sigh. "You really need to plan ahead for these things." 

Helen's eyes slowly went from Daria to John. "Quinn said that she'd be gone overnight and would stay in a hotel with Sandi, Stacy and Tiffany. What are you two planning on?" 

John immediately felt like an ant under a magnifying glass - with the sun focused on him. "Uh…we hadn't, um, gotten that far yet." 

Daria spoke up to rescue John. "Trent only invited us an hour or so ago. We haven't had a chance to discuss it. I suppose I could get a single room and John would stay with Trent and Jesse in another." 

"I'm not sure…you going alone with three boys," Helen said with gaining suspicion. 

Daria stared at her plate for a couple seconds to collect her thoughts before facing her mother. "You're right, and I don't blame you for being suspicious. But, I trust John, Trent and Jesse. You know I don't give my trust easily and without reason. Will you please accept my judgment that I'll be safe?" 

"Daria…I know you trust John. I'm still not sure about the other two." 

Daria steadily looked at Helen. "Mom, the band protects me like I'm their little sister. I trust them." 

With extreme caution, Helen agreed. "Okay. But all of this is riding on your word."

* * *

John looked up from the sculpture he was working on when he heard the bedroom door open. Daria held her hands up. "Put down your weapon, I surrender." 

John looked at the glue gun in his hand and grinned. "If I'd known it was that easy, I'd have pulled the old Stick-Mata Five-Thousand out a long time ago." 

"Funny." 

John squatted down next to the sculpture. "Um, thanks for the save at dinner." 

"That'll just be another one you owe me." Daria reached over to examine the sculpture. 

"Don't touch! Took hours to build. It's the subject of a painting." 

"Or a manifestation of your past-life as a barnacle." 

John laughed and glued another bit of glass onto the piece. "Maybe that's why I enjoy it so much." 

Daria sat on the bed and turned on the television to hear the announcer say, "Can monkeys surf the net and corrupt our kids? Chimpanzee chat rooms, next on _Sick, Sad World._" 

Daria shifted and twisted toward John. "Um, after the bump and the sandwich, do you think Trent would be offended if I asked Mom to let us use her car for the trip?" 

"Don't like living life on the edge?" 

"Not really. And I suspect we'll be staying on the edge of the road if we take the Tank." 

"You could be right, I don't know if the Tank's ever made a trip that far before. Max might get ticked off if we take something else, but Trent won't care."

* * *

Saturday morning, John was lacing his boots when he heard Daria in the hallway. "Where'd you get that eye-popping polyester number?" 

Quinn chirped, "Daria, it's all about knowing where to shop. Wow, you look almost normal, but I hope you're not going to the concert with that shirt tucked in." 

"Um, right." 

When Daria gently pushed his door open, John inwardly smiled to see her shirt pulled loose. She asked, "Ready?" 

"Yeah." He stood up. "Let's go." 

John followed her downstairs to where Jake and Helen were waiting. Helen handed Daria her keys. "You make sure Trent is careful." 

Daria took them. "We will. After all, we'll be inside it." 

"Okay. Your hotel reservations made?" 

"On your credit card." 

"Oh, yes. Well, then have fun at the concert." 

Jake laughed and said, "Hey, stay away from the brown..." 

Helen barked, "Jake!" 

Jake became serious. "Remember Daria, just say no." He reached into his wallet and removed some cash. "Here's a twenty each, for souvenirs or what have you. I gave one to Quinn too. Get yourself something rad." 

Daria accepted the money. "Thanks. Uh, what are you guys gonna do today?" 

Helen said, "Pay the bills." 

Jake added. "Wash the windows." 

Daria said, "Wow, well, remember to take plenty of rest breaks and stay hydrated. Bye." 

John waved. "Bye." 

As they went to the end of the driveway to await Trent, John turned to look at Daria and noticed Jake and Helen watching them from the window, as if in anticipation of their departure. He shifted his attention back to Daria. "It drives me nuts sometimes how she doesn't trust us." 

"I feel it too. But Mom did have a point when she talked to me after finding out about us. Quinn's dating for appearance only. She may be so flighty she'd be in orbit if gravity wasn't holding her to the ground, but she also considers her virginity one of her most valuable assets. Something she won't give up without a very valuable exchange. We however, have very real temptations, even if they scare the crap out of us." 

"Hmm. Still, I hope she trusts us a little more after this trip." 

Daria held his hand and showed the car keys. "She does. For some weird reason, she has a hard time saying it." 

"And I though my Mom was strange." 

"She is; mine's just closer." 

After a couple minutes, the Tank arrived and Trent parked it in the driveway. He leaned out and said, "Hey Johnny, Daria. That the rig?" 

As he opened the door, Daria handed him the keys. "My Mom's car. Guaranteed not to have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the back." 

Jesse closed his door and said, "Cool." 

After they were in Helen's red SUV, Trent started it and said, "Whoa, this thing has a muffler." 

"Cool," Jesse said looking around the interior. 

When the truck backed over the joint between driveway and road, Trent said, "Working shocks. I can get used to this."

* * *

Trent looked over his shoulder as the SUV approached a toll plaza. "Hey John, got any change? 

Daria shook her head. "Trent, Mom has an E-Toll unit on the visor, just hit the transponder lane." 

Trent looked up at the small device. "Gotcha." 

Jesse watched the attendant in the next lane as they drove through. "Oh, man, that was Curtis Stalano." 

John asked, "Who?" 

"He graduated with us." Trent motioned his head backward. "Now he's working in a toll booth. Whoa." 

Jesse proudly said, "You'd never catch me in a job like that." 

Trent spent a long time looking in the side mirror before speaking. "Hey man, we're artists. Who knows where we'll be in 5 years." 

John watched his brother carefully. _Something's bothering him. A job?_

Jesse looked directly forward. "We've got a vision." 

"Eyes on the prize man." Trent nodded. "Eyes on the prize." 

"Yeah, and this guy's not about selling out." 

Once more, Trent hesitated. "No way." 

_I better give him an out. _ John said, "Cuz for that to happen, you'd need to talk the rest of the band into it."

* * *

The waitress at the small diner said, "Okay, that's a meatloaf, open turkey with fries, box of frosted flakes..." She stopped reading. "Those are pretty small hon, just one?" 

Jesse closed his menu. "You're right. Make it five." 

She faced Daria. "And you?" 

Daria handed her menu back. "French toast and tea, please." 

The waitress laughed for a moment and yelled toward the kitchen, "One mystery brick, a nekkid gobbler in the brush, five boxes of flakes, and one hundred years war!" She slid the order pad into her apron pocket. "You kids going to that rock 'n roll shindig out near Swedesville?" 

Daria tilted her head. "No. We made a wrong turn on our way to Paris." 

Everyone laughed at the comment and the waitress said, "You've a quick one, aren't ya? 

"Why?" 

"Ever thought of getting a master's degree and becoming a waitress?"

* * *

Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as they waited in stalled traffic, Trent said, "This is like that R.E.M. video. Except you can't read anyone's mind." 

Daria bit her lower lip. "I shouldn't have had that tea." 

"You have to go?" John pointed out the window. "There's some trees over there." 

Trent looked back. "What the matter Daria, you gotta whiz?" 

"What's wrong?" Jesse asked as he twisted around. 

Trent leaned his head. "It's Daria, she has to pee." 

Attempting to be helpful, Jesse said, "You have to pee Daria? You can pee behind those trees. See those trees? You can pee behind there." 

Daria opened the side door and climbed out. "If I'm not back in ten minutes, don't send help."

* * *

John cringed when he saw Daria trip and fall coming out of the bushes. She seemed to have been talking to something behind her. _I better not ask._

When she climbed in, John asked, "You okay?" 

"Just a little humiliation is all." 

Trent asked, "Cool Daria?" 

She sat with arms folded. "Yeah. I'm ready for my abuse, Mr. DeMille." 

Trent put the car in gear. "Hey, I think the traffic's letting up." He slowly accelerated with the clearing traffic. 

Daria tapped John's arm. "They're not going to make fun of me?" 

"For peeing in the woods?" John said. "They're in a band Daria, those boys puke on each other on a regular basis." 

Jesse said to Trent, "That reminds me, you owe me a shirt." 

John whispered to Daria. "Trust me, don't ask."

* * *

John said, "Your turn Trent. We're up to D." 

"I'm going to the picnic, I'm bringing asbestos insulation, brine shrimp, the cryogenically frozen head of Walt Disney." Trent paused a moment in thought. "And a dromedary." 

Daria was next. "I'm going to the picnic and I'm bringing asbestos insulation, brine shrimp, the cryogenically frozen head of Walt Disney, a dromedary, and…a eurocentric view of world history." 

John said, "I'm going to the picnic and I'm bringing..." 

Jesse pointed and grinned. "Hey, there it is!" 

Trent drummed the steering wheel. "All right. Alternapalooza. We're here." 

John reached into his shirt pocket and removed four tickets. "I've got the tickets, let's find a place to park and get out. My legs are killing me." 

Trent parked the SUV on the huge pasture turned parking lot and everyone got out. In the distance, music blared from the stage of the already started concert. They walked past long rows of cars to the ticket gate and other late arrivals also began to bunch up around them. As the crowd grew, John could see Daria becoming more nervous and drift closer to him. He slipped his arm around her. 

She kissed his cheek and said, "Thanks."

* * *

After helping Trent spread the two blankets on the ground, Jesse heard the band on stage and raised both fists into the air. "Yeah! Spit Take! What a great name for a band!" 

Trent shook his head and asked John and Daria. "Want something to drink?" 

"Yeah." 

"Sure." 

Daria sat next to John and leaned against him, holding the hand of the arm he had around her. 

The music played and people danced. John hardly noticed much of it, his attention was on the soft touch of her hands entwined with his, the gentle pressure of her side where she leaned against him, and the smoothness of her auburn hair as he carefully rested his head against hers.

* * *

During a break between the performances of First Degree Felony and Lint Factory, Trent pulled out his acoustic guitar and started to tune it. John half-reclined on the blanket and Daria sat cross-legged near him. Jesse was on his back with his hands folded behind his head and becoming one with the atmosphere. 

Daria asked, "What chord is that?" 

Trent strummed the guitar. "G." 

"Oh." Daria looked at his arms. "Umm, nice tattoo. Tribal?" 

"Maori. I copied it out of _Tattoo World's _international issue. 

"Very graphic, and meaningful." 

Trent chuckled. "Yeah, it makes a statement. You know what it is?" 

John smirked. "You got a tattoo out of a magazine." 

Trent smiled. "That's it." 

"I guess it's better than trying to copy one off the TV," Daria said. 

Trent became serious. "Do you ever feel like maybe you are wasting your life?" 

Daria tried to make light of it. "Only when I'm awake?" 

"Like no money, no…um, money, and you still can't play an open D tuning. 

_Damn, he's having problems of some kind. _ John listened to Trent carefully. 

Daria said, "Well, I haven't had those exact thoughts..." 

"Maybe I will end up a townie doing covers. I mean, who's to say, right?" 

"Umm, you know Trent, it takes a lot of guts to go after a dream, especially when you know that failure can mean spending the rest of your life playing gut-wrenching covers." Daria added after a pause, "In public." 

"Hmm, I guess." 

"And even if it doesn't work out, at least for now you're doing exactly what you want to." 

Trent intently checked the tune on the next string and mumbled.

* * *

"Come on Daria, it's part of the experience," John carefully nudged Daria forward in the line. An all girl band called Cute Shiny Things was playing on stage. 

"They're overpriced and probably paper thin." 

"Yeah, your point?" 

Daria sighed. "At least Dad gave us enough for the down payment. It would be rude if we didn't come back with one." 

The grungy salesman in the pop-up sales tent said, "What size?" 

"I, um, guess a small." 

"Twenty -two bucks." 

Daria handed over the money and accepted the folded t-shirt, reading the logo out loud. "'Music, Mud and Mayhem.' Sounds about right." 

John said, "Medium," and collected his shirt. 

Daria asked, "Want an overpriced slice?" 

"Pizza'd make the day complete."

* * *

John returned to their base station and eyed the humanoid pile of mud on one blanket. He asked Trent, "What happened to Jesse?" 

"He found the mosh pit." Trent looked at his friend, laughed and coughed. "More like a mud pit. Where's Daria?" 

"She'll be back in a bit. Are you two stoned?" 

"Eh, a little." 

John sat down hard with his head hanging. "Dammit. Daria and I can't afford any trouble on this trip." 

"Hey, we're mellow. No troubles." 

"Except you can't drive." 

"Oh, yeah. Well, we could just crash in the car." 

"I'm not doing that to Daria," John said in great annoyance. 

"John, lay off. I came here to relax." 

"From what?" 

"Work." 

John slowly turned. "What?" 

"Work. I had to, only way I could keep an apartment." 

"So that's what's been bothering you. Doing what?" 

"Writin' jingles." 

"The rest of the band doesn't know, do they?" 

"How can I tell them? I'm selling out." 

"You're doing what you need to." 

Trent lost some of his usual composure. "Easy for you to say. You're living in a nice house and don't have to worry. I'm in a storeroom behind Axel's and scrounging for rent." 

"I'm sorry. I'm the only one of us to come out ahead in all this." 

"Don't be. At least one of us got lucky. I'll make it, but I need to get away some." 

"I feel lucky. Go on and relax, but we have to get to the hotel after the concert." 

"Oh, yeah. Um, I'm sorry, guess you're driving." 

"I guess so, too. Just promise me one thing." 

"Yeah?" 

"Don't puke in her mom's car." 

"Sure." 

"And, we better hose Jesse off before we put him in the back." 

Trent laughed and coughed. "And put him out to dry. But, you promise me something." 

"What?" 

"Daria's cool. Don't pull a Wind." 

"I'm not your mommie," Daria barked to a drunk suspended between two friends. She pushed past them and sat on the blanket in relief. "Trust me, the woods were better."

* * *

John parked the SUV and released his tight grip on the steering wheel. "That's a lot different than driving the band home from the Zon." 

"But we made it." Daria opened the door. "I'll get us checked in." 

"I'll try to wake up Trent and Jesse." 

"Good luck." Daria walked to the hotel lobby while John reached over to the back seat, pushed on Trent. 

"Wake up." 

"Officer, it wasn't my guitar." 

"Come on, wake up. Daria's getting us checked in." 

"I'm good. Sleep here." 

"No." 

"Yeah. Sleep." 

"Room, then sleep." 

John looked skyward. "Please, rooms on the first floor."

* * *

Daria leaned against the wall of the room and labored to catch her breath. "Think they'll mind being dumped in the same bed?" 

John shook his head. "No worse than the whole band sleeping in the Tank, or the floor of Trent's place. Besides, if they can't be awake, they can't be choosy." 

Daria weakly laughed. "Good point. Look, it's after midnight and I'm beat." 

John held her close. "Good night." He gently tilted her head up and kissed her. 

"I wish we could do that every night," Daria sighed. 

"And this." John simply held her and stroked her hair for several minutes. 

When they released, he followed Daria to her room. They quickly kissed again and said good night. John waited at the door for a few moments in thought, his hand raised to knock on it. He lowered his hand, shook his head, and went back to his room. 

Inside, Daria stood at the door, her hand on the knob. After a few moments, she softly sighed and walked back to her bed.

* * *

John yawned and stretched. No surprise, Trent and Jesse were still sound asleep. John showered and put on fresh clothes, including the new t-shirt. On the way out, he grabbed the ice bucket before going to Daria's room. 

Appearing uncomfortable, she opened it soon after the knock. "Hi." Daria also wore the concert shirt, which was pleasantly snug to John's eye. 

"Morning. You okay?" 

She pulled at the t-shirt. "Um…when the label said small, they meant it." 

"Oh." _Proportions without excess. But, I better stay quiet. _ John changed the subject. "Look, can I grab your ice bucket? We need to get Trent and Jesse up." 

"A bucket each?" 

"You have to wake them up just right, or they won't wake up at all."

* * *

Trent and Jesse sat across from John and Daria in the hotel diner booth. Both supported heads on fists and gazed off to infinity. The lights were on, but nobody was home. 

The waitress in white asked, "Can they speak enough to order?" 

John said, "We'll need two cups of coffee from the vat left over from the graveyard shift. Two bowls of oatmeal, and two tall, empty glasses." 

She turned to the kitchen. "Two overnight bombs and two haggis stuffers, with dry cups on the side." She brought her tablet back up and asked John and Daria, "What about you two sweethearts?" 

John blushed when he looked at Daria. "I'll have two scrambled eggs with bacon and toast." 

Daria slid her menu to the waitress. "One poached egg and dry toast, with tea." 

She yelled back, "Two blenders with porky on a slab, and a fish-eyed nausea delight." 

"John?" Daria questioned. "What are you doing to them?" 

"Just preparing a breakfast that they'll be able to get down." 

It took only a couple minutes for the waitress to deliver the food. John dumped the coffee and oatmeal into each larger cup and stirred it together, adding milk and sugar. He slowly waved them under Trent and Jesse's noses. After a half-dozen passes, their hands fumbled out and took the glasses. By dropping their faces onto the cup tops, they began to consume the mix. 

"That's something…I thought I'd never see outside of Texas, though they'd use grits." 

"It gets caffeine, sugar, some vitamins and some bulk fiber into them." 

"And makes less mess." 

"Yep."

* * *

Approaching noon, they reached Daria and John's home after a fairly hair-raising ride back. Trent's driving skills matched Jesse's, which matched that of a deranged opossum. Since the Tank was still parked on one side of the driveway, he parked the SUV behind a yellow convertible. Still moving like a sleepwalker, Trent dropped the keys in John's hand and with Jesse, crawled into the Tank. 

Trent waved and said, "Fun trip. Later," as he backed down the drive. 

Beyond the yellow convertible, Quinn's three pet boys were busy at the side of the house. John examined a pile of bags from Wappington Mills Outlet Center that they were taking up a ladder to Quinn's open window. 

John said to Daria, "I don't remember one of these at the concert." 

"Like I would notice an outlet center?" Daria quipped and headed for the front door. 

John followed Daria inside the house. 

In the kitchen, Jake leaned against the counter, watching as Helen hummed and slowly ladled pancake batter onto the griddle. She said, "I should really make pancakes more often. The batter's so sensual." 

Jake playfully said, "Like batter, like chef." 

John remembered Jake and Helen impatiently watching from the window as he and Daria left the day before. _Now I know what they've been up to._

Helen noticed the teens. "Hi kids." 

Jake followed her gaze. "How was the festival?" Trying to sound hip, he said, "Those look like rad shirts." 

Quinn came down the stairs and followed the sound of voices. 

Jake said, "Hey Quinn! Where's your shirt?" 

"What Daddy?" 

"Your shirt from the festival." 

Quinn stared for a moment, unsure of what to say. One of the boys, Jeffy, poked his head in the front door and yelled, "Quinn! Could you get someone to move that red truck so we can get out? 

Helen switched to lawyer mode. "Quinn, why are those boys still here?" 

"Oh, um, they had to do something to the car?" 

"Quinn…" 

Jeffy noticed John and Daria. "Whoa, cool shirts." 

Helen focused on him. "You didn't get any concert shirts?" 

Jeffy stammered, "Um, no. We didn't get…oops." 

Helen angrily faced Quinn. "Where did you go yesterday?" 

"We tried to go to Alternapalooza, but…but, we went outlet shopping instead." 

"Paying for it…how?" 

"Um, the gold card you gave me for the hotel room." 

"Quinn! I agreed to pay for that so you could have a safe place to stay after the concert, not so you can go on yet another shopping spree!" 

Helen turned to face Daria. "What about you! Where's the green card I gave you for the hotel?" 

Daria took the card from her wallet and passed it to Helen, along with the hotel receipt. "The card and receipt." 

"Anything else?" 

"Oh, we did use your E-Toll unit on the turnpike, saved us half an hour travel time each way." 

"That's okay, Sweetie." She swung around to Quinn. "Okay, the card and all of the receipts young lady. Now!" 

"Just a minute." Quinn ran upstairs and returned a minute later with the gold card and a stack of receipts. 

Helen quickly read the receipts. "Quinn. This…" 

Jake read over Helen's shoulder. "Gah! You spent how much!" 

Jeffy asked, "Um, can somebody move the truck? We need to get home, too." 

John pulled the car keys from his pocket. "I'll move it." He quietly said to Daria, "We better get the non-combatants out of the area." 

"I'll stay and watch." 

"Be careful, we don't want a repeat of the last Family Court session." 

"I'll try to head one off." 

"Thanks." John walked past Jeffy holding up the keys, "Let's get you out of the blast radius." 

"Sure thing." 

Just as Jeffy closed the door, he said, "Um, Daria looked good in that shirt, when did she, um, grow…?" 

"She's had them." 

"Um, okay, but why didn't I notice?" 

"She didn't want you to." 

"Oh. Wait, how'd she do that?" 

"She's a brain." 

"Ah."

* * *

John let the three J's escape and parked Helen's truck. He walked back through the door in time to hear Jake yell, "It's my eye! Oh God, it's my eye!" 

Jake held a hand over his eye and weaved in pain. He opened his hand to show the orb reddened from a burst blood vessel. 

Daria said, "Oh no," before turning to John. "Got a camera?" 

Quinn blanched. "Ugh." 

Helen held up her hand. "No camera, Daria." She sighed and said to Jake, "Remember what the doctor said last time you burst a blood vessel?" 

Jake grumbled, "Yeah, he said it would be two hundred dollars." 

Helen held his hand. "Before that. He said we need to cut down on your stress." She began to try to cheer him up. "And we're going to do that next weekend. We're going camping like we used to before..." She gazed at the teens. "I'll take Friday off and we'll make a long weekend of it." 

Surprised, Daria said, "You're going to take a day off?" 

"Daria, a healthy happy family comes before work. Always. Besides I have vacation time coming and Eric told me that if I don't use it; I lose it." She pounded her fist on the table. "Dammit! Those bastards aren't gonna take away my days." 

Helen put her arm around her husband and led him away. "Come on Jake, let's find the painkillers." She looked over her shoulder, "Don't even bother kids, you're coming with us. And Quinn, we'll be holding Family Court later. Don't expect the judge to be in a good mood."

* * *

"Daria! Please?" Quinn pleaded. 

Daria stopped at the front door and turned. "We're going to the park to write and sketch. It's only Tuesday, are you that desperate already?" 

"It beats sitting around here all day." 

"That's what being grounded means." 

"But it's spring break! And Mom won't let me leave the house unless a family member is with me." 

"Quinn, you should've gone to the concert instead of spending all that money. By the way, did the rest of the Fashion Club buy as much as you?" 

"Yeah, except Sandi. I think she bought more." 

"How did you get all that in that little car?" 

"Well, Sandi, Stacy, Tiffany and I all sat in the front. We left the trunk open and filled it. One of the nice outlet story guys got us some rope to tie the lid down. We put the rest in the back seat." 

"Quinn, what did you do with the boys? Tie them on top?" 

"Oh, Joey and Jeffy rode on the pile in the back seat. Come to think of it, I think they did use some rope. Jermaine rode on the stuff in the trunk." 

"That's Jamie. Even I know that." 

"So do I, but it keeps him guessing." 

Daria rubbed her forehead. "At least Stacy was able to corroborate that the boys all stayed in a different room, or you'd be in even deeper trouble." 

John came down the stairs carrying a small toolbox of art supplies and a large sketch pad. "I'm surprised you'd be seen with us." 

"It's better than being here alone, and I wouldn't have to stay right next to." 

Daria leaned against the door frame. "Quinn, please. We want to spend some time together." 

"So? I could…ohhhh, that kind of time together. Look, I stayed quiet about you two going to the roller hockey game the last time we were grounded. Just today, and I won't bother you for the rest of the week." 

Before John or Daria could say anything, the phone rang and Quinn ran to answer it. "Hello…who?...oh, sure…just a moment." She covered the phone and said, "John, for you." 

"Hnh?" John set his gear down and took the phone from Quinn. "Hello?" 

His mother, Amanda, said, "Hi, John. How are you doing?" 

"I'm okay. How are things at the art colony?" 

"This is such a creative place. I hope you get to stay here sometime." 

"Um, yeah." 

"Are you busy this weekend?" 

"Well…" 

"Your father's family is having a reunion in Sloatstown and we were wondering if you and Trent could go to represent us." 

"Gee, Mom. The Morgendorffers already had plans for this weekend, I won't be able to make it." 

"Ah. What about Trent?" 

"Well, he usually has gigs on Friday and Saturday nights. Now that he actually depends on the money, he can't miss them." 

"I see. Maybe Summer and Wind will be able to show up for it." 

"I'd give them a try. By the way, have the PI's found her kids?" 

"Three of them." 

"That's good." 

John sat down on a sofa. "I miss you." 

"I miss you, too." 

"Um, all this has been kind of hard on Trent. He'd like to hear from you sometime." 

"I should call him." 

"Just remember to do it after five, otherwise Axel will answer the phone." 

"Oh, yeah. Why does that man use Trent's phone for his tattoo shop?"

* * *

John hiked beside Daria as the family headed down a trail in the nearby national forest, subjected to Jake singing. 

_Give my regards to Broadway,   
remember me to Herald Square.   
Tell all the gang at Forty-Second Street   
that I will soon be there..._

Jake stopped singing and stopped at a clearing. "Is this great, or what? For the next seventy-two hours we're going to live off what nature sends our way! See that stream? That's our drinking water! See those berries! That's our breakfast!" 

Daria deadpanned, "See that skeleton? That's our future." After everyone gazed in the pointed directions, she followed up with, "Made you look." 

John elbowed her. "Tease." 

Jake opened his arms wide. "Total isolation!" 

"No phone, no fax, no e-mail, no voicemail!" Helen sounded just as happy and excited. "No way to contact the outside world! What a luxury." 

Jake added, "Tonight we'll tell spooky stories around the campfire. Tomorrow we hike till we drop!" 

Helen slid next to Jake and caressed his arm. "Just like we used to." 

Jake dreamily asked, "Remember?" 

She replied, "We were so relaxed in those days." 

Daria pulled John aside. "Trust me, we never want to know what they're remembering when they do that. Never." 

"If they're anything like my folks, it's a deal. Just be glad you didn't grow up in the same house that used to be their hippy commune. Some of the things we've dug up out of the back yard…" 

Jake interrupted. "Kids, doesn't all this beauty take you right out of yourselves?" 

Helen asked, "Daria?" 

"I think I'm getting a chill." Daria walked to a fallen tree and sat down. "If you don't mind, I'm gonna crawl back into myself for a while." 

"John?" 

He shrugged. "At least I won't have to listen to a bunch of middle-aged men banging away on drums like the last time I was camping." 

Daria raised an eyebrow. 

John sat next to her and said, "Dad went on one of those 'discover your manhood' events and dragged me with." 

"What about you Quinn?" Helen asked the youngest. 

With a blank stare, Quinn said, "No phone?"

* * *

"Ew. There's a bug crawling on this stick," Quinn complained from behind Daria and John. All three carried armloads of firewood. 

John stopped and turned. "Let me see it." 

When Quinn got closer, he balanced his wood in one arm and flicked the small beetle away. "There." 

"Um, thanks." 

After they started walking, Daria asked him, "I know you were tempted to say it was something horrible." 

"Yeah, but I didn't want her to have an excuse to get out of the grunt labor." 

As they neared the camp, John could see Jake sitting on the ground in front of a tent and Helen standing with her hand on his shoulder. She noticed them approaching and said, "All right Jake, um, now you're letting out too much tension. 

Jake whimpered, "Why did he think I was still wetting the bed at fifteen?" 

Slight rustling of feet caught his attention and he looked up. "Oh, hi kids!" 

The tent behind him collapsed and Jake sagged in frustration. 

John set his wood down next to the half-dug fire circle and he returned to Jake. "I'll get this, why don't you help get the fire ready?" 

Jake grinned. "Yeah!" 

Jake rushed to the fire circle and began digging to complete it. John whispered to Helen. "Please tell me you have the matches."

* * *

John joined the rest of the Morgendorffers seated on logs around the small campfire. _I must admit, they did a good job setting up camp. They really must've done some camping before Daria was born._

Jake had already started his story. "Then, lying there in the darkness, the boy heard a tiny splashing sound. Psh! Psh! Like waves on a faraway shore. Except! The nearest ocean was a hundred miles away... The boy reached out for his sleeping father! But he was gone. Shaking with fear the boy stumbled out of the rickety lean-to and that's when he saw it. His father, sitting alone at the campfire. Alone! With a whole case of beer." Jake pantomimed opening cans. "Psh! Psh! The selfish old bastard was wasted again." 

John was reminded of his Uncle Max. _I bet Wind's having fun dealing with him tonight. Once Max ties one on, everybody is his favorite, because they're a bum, just like him._

* * *

A while later, it was Helen's turn for a story. "'You're a vampire?' she whispered to the pale stranger with the brooding eyes. She felt her bosom blush and heave with excitement." 

John carefully let his shadowed hand grasp Daria's. _Sounds like Helen's been into the romances again._

Helen's story continued. "'You've come to take my blood!' 'Your blood?' he laughed. 'Oh there's time enough to take your blood. Tonight I'm going to take your...'" Helen caught herself and looked at Daria and John. "'…t-take your pulse! To make sure that you know, the blood will be there when I come back.'" 

John felt Daria squeeze his hand slightly while she suppressed a laugh. _Sometimes, it is nice to see them get uncomfortable instead of us._

* * *

"So Cinderella said, 'I can't go to the ball in these rags.' And her fairy godmother waved her wand and behold, she was wearing a gown of silver and gold." Quinn tried to make her voice sound ominous. "Big clunky silver and gold sequins, like you wouldn't wear to one of those seventies nostalgia proms, much less a formal party at a palace. And when she went to check out herself in the mirror, the one that usually made her look thin, instead she looked bloated!" 

Helen yawned and asked, "Quinn honey, is this really a scary story?" 

Quinn held up her hands. "Wait! I haven't gotten to the shoes yet!" 

John pulled a pant leg up and stuck his boot out toward her. "Something like this?" 

"John, this is horror, not science fiction."

* * *

Jake, Helen and Quinn were already looking queasy when Daria finished her story. "So the witch tore Hansel's arm off, popped it in her mouth, said, 'Hey, pretty good.' And within minutes had devoured the rest of his body, leaving only the lower intestine for fear of bacteria. Gretel she decided she wanted to hold onto for a while so she crammed her into the freezer the best she could." 

Jake swallowed hard and seemed to fight some kind of internal battle for several seconds, probably with the upper portion of his digestive tract. Apparently achieving victory, he said, "John, your turn. Think you can scare everybody?" 

John gazed at the fire and poked at the embers with a stick. "I once heard about a series of murders that happened in this part of the national forest years ago. They say the killer was a former park ranger that went over the edge from too many rude and inconsiderate park visitors. It was rumored that he'd been given a psychological discharge from CIA black ops for excessive violence and that they found what they thought was a nice, quiet job for him to settle down in. Little did they know…" 

Ten minutes later, Jake and Helen held each other tightly and Quinn was making every attempt to dig her fingers into the log she sat on. John completed the story with, "The forensic team said that the fire was so hot, any human remains inside the bunker would've been completely destroyed. They considered the case closed, but others say that he's still out there in the forest with his night vision scope and sniper rifle, ready to pick off anyone he thinks is breaking the park rules." 

A bit of resinous sap in the burning wood popped, sending a small shower of sparks and ash upward. Together, Jake, Helen and Quinn shouted, "Gah!" and dove onto the ground behind the logs they'd been sitting on. 

While everyone else was still cowering, Daria quickly kissed John's cheek and whispered, "I'm impressed."

* * *

"Hey John! Up and at 'em!" Jake's voice boomed into John's consciousness. He cautiously opened one eye to see Jake holding the flap of the small pup tent open. 

"Wha?" 

"Help me collect breakfast for everyone." 

"It's barely light out there." 

"I know we're running late, but breakfast won't be if you help." 

"Um, yeah. Gimme a minute." John rubbed his eyes and crawled out of the sleeping bag. He grabbed his boots and placed them on the ground outside before putting them on. Bending almost double, he slid himself out of the cramped tent and stood. 

Jake grabbed his arm and pulled him with. "Come on!" 

"Yeah." John yawned and stumbled after, still more asleep than awake. 

After several minutes of poking and searching among the underbrush, Jake located a bank of brushes sprouting red berries. He exclaimed, "Ah, breakfast." 

John looked carefully at the fruit. "What are they?" 

Jake began breaking branches off the plants. "Oh, I don't remember the name, but we used to eat these all the time." 

John yawned widely. "Um, okay." 

Jake popped a couple in his mouth and started to collect more. John shrugged and also picked some branches. Moving along the bank in the opposite direction, he didn't hear Jake faintly say, "Funny, they don't taste the way they used to." 

John felt his stomach grumble and decided to try a berry. "Hmm, nothing to get excited over, but if they used to eat these, why not?" John ate a handful between yawns as he collected branches. 

"Okay, that's enough." Jake waved to John. "Back to camp!" 

Falling in step behind, John nibbled on a couple more berries. After he dropped off his load of berries, John went back to his tent to secure things inside. 

Almost done, he heard Helen speaking in the next tent. "Daria, Quinn, get up, I need you. Your father's in a sickening mood." 

Jake's voiced joined. "Are they decent Helen?" 

"Yes Jake." 

Jake called into the other tent, "Up and at them ladies! Time to join the forest morning, already in progress. Breakfast is on Mother Nature. Yum! Meet you around the fire in five minutes!" 

John heard more rustling, and then Helen quietly say, "Please girls. I'm afraid I may hurt him."

* * *

John walked next to Daria and directly behind Jake down a forested path. Daria asked John, "You really helped Dad collect those berries?" 

"Well, I wasn't really awake, I'm assuming I did." 

Jake waved his arm around. "Can you believe the whole continent used to look like this?" 

Daria said, "It makes me yearn for the past." 

Jake pointed to a fork in the path. The one to the right had a sign across it marked, "DANGER! TRAIL WASHED OUT." He said, "Look at that kids, a fork in the trail. If you go one way, you can't go the other." 

"This is going to depress us, isn't it?" Daria said. 

"This way over here leads to an entry-level job. A little bit of money in your pocket." Jake's voice rose as he talked. "Soon you're wearing a suit and tie everyday like all the other faceless saps, living in a boring little house, in a bland little town, and doing so well you're in debt up to your disappearing hair! That's where that trail leads, kids." 

"I guess that other trail is the one that leads to personal and spiritual satisfaction." Daria sarcastically added, "That's why they don't want you to take it." 

"Dammit, Daria! You're brilliant!" Jake exclaimed and climbed over the sign. With a satisfied grin, he started a fast pace down the forbidden trail. 

Daria called, "Wait! It was a joke?" 

John pulled on her hand. "We better keep an eye on him. He's sounding a little stranger than normal." 

"Yeah." 

When they caught up, Daria said, "Dad I don't think this is a good idea." 

Jake stopped and whirled around. "It's not cautious is it, Daria? It's not the sort of thing a responsible family man would do." 

Daria started to become concerned. "Are you feeling okay? You look kind of pale." 

Jake started into a new rant. "Maybe you think we should go back to camp, huh? You go back to camp, Daria! I'm going to see what... who is down this trail. You hear that old man? I don't care what happens to me Daria! I'm past feeling pain." He spun back around and started a fast walk - right into a tree. "Ow! Dammit!" 

A call from Quinn reached them. "Daria!" 

Daria led her father by the arm. "Come on Dad, Quinn needs us." 

Jake held a hand to his bloody nose as he yelled back, "I'm not done with you yet old man!" 

John followed behind, feeling a little odd. He stopped briefly and picked up a long, slender stem of a bush, stripping the side branches from it. Breaking into a jog to catch up, he swung the stem side to side. 

He looked side to side and became concerned. "Better be careful." He dodged to the side and off the trail, keeping low to avoid being seen as he paralleled it.

* * *

John moved up carefully and listed to hear Helen say, "No honey, the tide! I was saying we ought to set sail while the tide's still high." 

Quinn said, "Dad?" 

Jake laughed. "Don't worry sweetie. Your Mom sounds a little nutty but she's making perfect sense." 

"She is?" 

"Sure. If we try to sail at low tide and ran aground, we'd be sitting ducks for Captain Cutlass's men." Jake laughed again. "I don't know about you but I don't want to be skinned alive and thrown to the sharks, right girls? Come on, let's go gather some provisions!" 

Laughing, Jake ran off with Helen close behind. John moved to follow them a short distance, just to make sure. "Good, the Cardinal's men are gone." 

He got back to the small clearing in time to hear Daria say, "This is really scary Quinn." 

Quinn asked, "But why did they go insane?" 

"Knowing Dad and his excellent woodland skills, I'd say it was the berries. Except..." 

"It couldn't have been the berries." 

"That's what I think. Because you and John ate the berries too and you seem okay." Daria looked around. "Wait…where's John? 

Quinn shook her head. "No, I meant because those weren't the glitterberries." 

Daria slowly turned. "Glitterberries?" 

Quinn beamed. "You know, the glitterberries! The ones that fill your mouth with beautiful sparkling glitter when you bite into them. Those are the ones that make you act weird." She spread her arms and began to dance around. "I mean until you spread your shimmering wings and fly away." 

Daria looked down. "Uh-oh." She looked around. "Dammit, where's John?" She raised her voice. "John!" 

John rushed forward, brandishing the switch. "You called, my dear lady?" 

"John, where have you…?" 

Quinn said, "Daria, you don't have a mirror do you? I want to check my makeup." 

Before Daria could say anything, John jumped between them and pushed Daria back. "You're safe now Constance. We'll get you out of here and safely back to Paris." 

"Constance? Paris? 

Quinn asked, "John, do you have a mirror?" 

He held his 'sword' up and said, "Please step back, de Winter." 

Wearing only a pair of boxer shorts and his hiking boots, Jake ran by calling, "Spirit animal! Come back spirit animal!" 

John pushed Daria and yelled, "Run! The cardinal's men are back!" He turned to Quinn. "Milady, you will not succeed. Your actions are treason and the king shall know of it." 

Helen ran up. "Kids, have you seen your father's spirit animal? He was just telling it about his childhood when it jumped up and scampered off. 

Daria wasn't certain who to listen to. "This is getting very bad." 

Quinn asked, "What did it look like Mom?" 

Helen gestured with her hands. "Oh you know, yellow, stripes on the back, powerful hind legs, three horns, a beard..." 

"Come on, I saw where it went." 

Quinn ran in the direction Jake had gone, with Helen directly behind her. 

Daria took several breaths to settle her nerves. "Okay. Remain calm. Family and boyfriend hav gone mad. Must get them back to civilization. But no way to contact civilization because mother made big deal about cutting off all communication. What to do? 

A ringing emerged from Helen's dropped backpack. 

Daria sighed in relief. "Rely on Mother's hypocrisy to see us through this crisis." 

She opened the side pocket and pulled out Helen's cell phone. Just as he reached for the connect button, John swatted the phone from her hand. 

"No! The countess has poisoned it." 

"What?" 

"The Countess de Winter has poisoned the wine. Please Constance, we must get you out of here." 

"We?" 

"Athos, Porthos and Aramis." 

"Oh…damn." 

"We must leave before de Winter returns." 

Daria inhaled and tried to calm her rising fear. "Um…d'Artagnan, please…' 

John grabbed her hand and pulled her after him. "No time, my love. The others are just outside the bastion and have horses at the ready." 

Daria was barely able to keep up with his fast pace.

* * *

Heavily winded, Daria dug her feet into the ground and pulled John to a stop. "Wait…need…breathe…rest." 

John turned and embraced her. "As you wish. We shall rest for the present." He looked around. "Something must have happened, the horses are gone." 

"Thank God." 

"My dear?" 

Daria still worked to catch her breath and desperately tried to think of a way to get John to go back. "Um…the goblet…" 

John knelt down and kissed her hand. "Not to fear, we will be far away soon." 

Daria thought furiously. "Jo…d'Artagnan, I'm not worried about the wine…I need the goblet." 

"Why would that be?" 

"There is an important message for the Queen hidden under it. We must get it back." 

"You stay here, I'll return to the castle." 

"What about the cardinal's men searching out here? I'd better go with you." 

John sighed. "Oh, where are the others?" He again grasped her hand. "Very well, let us go."

* * *

Daria's legs were quivering from overuse by the time they made it back to the camp. John stopped her at the edge of the clearing, saying, "The countess and Richelieu are there, and a lady I do not know, perhaps one of de Winter's servants." 

Daria inhaled hard and worked to keep a steady voice. "We need to work together on this." 

"Fair Constance, I cannot allow you to be in any more danger." 

"We will all be in more danger if I don't get that message. I see the goblet, keep the cardinal and the others busy while I get it." 

He pulled her close and kissed her. "Ah, the fairness of a spring flower and the courage of a musketeer. It is no wonder that I love you." 

"Um, thanks. We better get started." 

"Yes, milady." 

John leapt from the brush and charged, branding his hallucinated rapier. "Step aside, your Eminence. Unless you normally consort with murderesses." 

Jake spun and pushed Quinn behind him. "Captain Cutlass!" 

Helen picked up two branches, tossing one to Jake. "He's not half the swordsman you are!" 

Daria, still breathing heavily, crouched low and worked her way around to the fallen cell phone. 

Jake swished the branch back and forth, facing John. "You've plundered your last galleon. I'm the finest swordsman on the Spanish Main." 

John slowly rotated to keep Jake and Helen's attention on him, and their backs to Daria. "Richelieu, your treason will not go unnoticed; or unpunished." 

John struck at Jake with the stick, which Jake swatted aside. 

Jake grinned. "It'll be such a pleasure to run you through, you scurvy dog. You'll never live to swing from a yardarm." 

Poking and swiping, John and Jake fenced clumsily in the clearing. John's speed and strength giving him the advantage. Helen watched intently while Quinn huddled near a tent and quivered. 

Daria reached the phone, picked it up and switched it on, to no effect. "Damn," she muttered in frustration, and then turned the phone over to find the battery cover was loose. 

Quinn backed farther away from the fighting, turning her head. When she saw Daria, she shouted, "You're alive!" and bolted to her. Quinn caught Daria in a bear hug that pinned her arms to her side while exclaiming, "We all thought Cutlass had fed you to the sharks!" 

Daria ducked down to free herself. "Um, they weren't hungry that day?" 

Quinn yelled to Helen, "Mother! Look! 

Daria pushed the batteries into place and slid the cover shut. The illuminated buttons brought a relieved smile to her face. "Good." 

Helen quickly backed over to Daria while keeping an eye on Jake and John. She grabbed Daria, sobbing with joy. 

Daria pried her arm free. "Yes Mother, I'm fine." She used her thumb to hit the cell phone keys. "Hello, nine-one-one?"

* * *

John slowly opened his eyes and looked around in confusion before figuring out he was in some kind of hospital room. He felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach and his throat was sore. John noticed that one side of the room was an open curtain and a larger room was beyond with a nurses' station in clear view. The attendant smiled and motioned to someone. 

After a couple seconds, Daria walked around and came into his room. "Hi, d'Artagnan." 

"Huh?" 

Daria gave him a kiss. "Do you remember anything?" 

"Um, I remember hiking, your dad going off on one of his rants, and then…nothing. Well, not entirely nothing, some vague dreams. What happened?" 

"Those were psychotropic berries everyone but me ate for breakfast. Leave it to Dad to find the largest patch in the national forest." 

"Everyone? Are they okay?" 

"They're in the next rooms, in about the same condition. By the way, you're in Cedars of Lawndale's emergency ward. Everyone had their stomachs pumped and sedated while the effects wore off. You're the first one awake. 

John faintly laughed and held Daria's hand. "That's a hell of a way to get some time alone." He noticed the duty nurse smile. "Well, not that alone." 

"The doctor should be here soon. I'll also need to keep an eye on everyone else." 

"Can you tell me any details?" 

"You, um, had some interesting hallucinations and thought you were d'Artagnan in _The Three Musketeers._" 

"Oh?" John lowered his head. "I hope I didn't say anything too embarrassing." 

"Not too bad." She gently rubbed her thumb over the back of her hand and whispered, "But, someday, I hope you'll say one of them again."

* * *

Dialog from:   
_Road Worrier_ by Anne D. Bernstein via the Outpost Daria transcript   
_The Teachings of Don Jake _by Glenn Eichler via the Outpost Daria transcript 

Band names from:   
_The Daria Diaries_ by Anne D. Bernstein. 

Thanks to Martin J. Pollard for Daria's "flighty" comment about Quinn. 

A nod to Galen Hardesty's _The Teachings of Dona Daria_: the 'pirate' scenes gave me the idea for John's hallucination. 

Thanks to Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading (and to Mr. Orange for suggesting the French dub for the "sandwich" line). 

June 2005   



	8. Killing A Legend

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. 

This is the eighth John Lane story 

Richard Lobinske 

**Killing a Legend**

Each carrying their backpacks in one hand, John Lane and Daria Morgendorffer walked up the stairs of their home after dinner. John said, "Do your parents always get excited about school pictures?" 

Daria sighed. "Regrettably. How in the hell did you get out of having proofs to bring home?" 

"The photographer knows my Dad, and he's done all the Lawndale schools since tintypes. He knows my folks won't buy any, so he doesn't bother to print them. I just…failed to mention I'm not living with them anymore." 

"Lucky bastard." 

"In more ways than one."

* * *

The next day at school, Daria half-read the _Lawndale Lowdown _while she walked with John down the hallway. 

About fifteen feet in front of them, quarterback Kevin Thompson was almost vibrating with excitement. "This is it Mack Daddy! The week of weeks!" 

Often the sole voice of reason for the Lawndale Lions, Michael MacKenzie told him, "Too much hero worship isn't healthy you know. And don't call me that." 

Kevin rambled on, "But the man is coming! The man! Tommy Sherman brought it home bro!" To emphasize his point, Kevin pounded a football against his head. "The state championship. And now, he's coming back to Lawndale." 

"I know all about it. Jodie's giving the speech about the new goal post, remember?" 

"Oh yeah." Trying to be helpful, Kevin said, "Does she need any help with ideas for that? Like, from a quarterback's point of view?" 

"Gee, I'll ask her." Mack added with bemusement, "When there aren't any sharp objects around." 

"Cool!" 

Daria looked up from the paper. "Spring football. Can't we be spared at least one trimester?" 

John pushed the doors open and they walked off the sidewalk to one of the grassy patches on campus. "Give them a chance, and I'll bet they'd bring in summer football." 

"Don't even think it." She stuffed the newspaper into her backpack and sat down, cross-legged. 

John joined her, his legs stretched out. "Yeah, we don't want another Tommy Sherman." 

"What's the big deal about this football guy anyway?" 

John shrugged. "He was quarterback three years ago. Liked to show off a lot and ran into goal posts because he kept waving at the crowd. Broke his nose a couple times and knocked himself out for six days before leading the team to the state championship. My brother knew him, kind of." 

"Well, why name the goal posts after him? Why not the whole stadium?" 

"Goal post." John slowly shook his head. "You know Ms. Li; why spend any more than you have to." 

"That I can see." 

"Hey, at least it's one of those new goal posts designed to break apart rather than split your skull." 

Jodie Landon walked up and took a seat on the grass next to them. After a nod of greeting, she said, "Hey Daria, I'm stuck with making a speech at the ceremony for Tommy Sherman and can't get past the introduction. Can I read it to you? 

Daria asked, "Does that mean I don't have to listen to it later?" 

Jodie recited, "Good afternoon students, faculty, and distinguished alumni of Lawndale High. As a representative of your student council..." She hopefully looked at Daria. "Any ideas?" 

"It is my privilege today to once again send the message that learning is no substitute for winning." 

"And if you bring the school glory," John added, "we'll name parts of it after you, even if you're too stupid to look where you're running." 

Frustrated, Jodie sarcastically replied, "Gosh, thanks so much. You think I like this?" 

"If you don't believe any of it, why give the speech?" Daria inquired. 

"Because I'm on the student council." Jodie rose and said with increasing annoyance. "It's a job with many responsibilities and today it's my responsibility to kiss the butt of some jock getting a goal post named after him. But at least now I feel really good about it." 

Mack walked up to the group. "Hey." 

Jodie lashed out, "Leave me alone!" and stalked away. 

Seeing Mack's confused face, Daria said, "Chicks." 

John slowly shook his head. "Don't ask."

* * *

_Oh, great. Looks like our turn to encounter Mr. Personality._ John thought as he and Daria neared her locker. A muscle-bound man with brown hair and a misshapen nose was leaning against it. 

Daria stopped in front of Tommy Sherman. "Excuse me." 

Tommy slowly scanned her and frowned. "You're kidding, right? You think I'm going to talk to you?" He noticed John. "Don't tell me, he wants to watch. What is it with this school?" 

Daria sighed and said, "I don't want to talk to you." 

"Yeah, right. You said, 'Excuse me.'" 

"You're on my locker." 

John scowled. "I certainly don't want to watch you doing anything." 

"Do you know who I am?" He puffed out his chest. "I'm Tommy Sherman." 

Daria said, "I know the whole school's turning itself inside out because of some egotistical football player. And I've seen you insult or proposition just about everyone you've come across." 

John interrupted. "Yeah, we know who you are. Please get off her locker so she can get what she needs and we can go about our business." 

Tommy clenched his teeth. "You're awful cocky." 

"Look, could you just go out to your goalpost or something?" 

Tommy stood straight and stepped toward John, towering over the slim teen. "Wanna make me?" 

Daria tried to slip in behind Tommy to get her locker open. 

John shook his head. "We're not looking for trouble, we just want to get to our next class." 

Using little effort, Tommy pushed Daria away, causing her to stumble. 

John stepped between them and steadied her, saying, "Maybe we should skip the locker and come back later." 

When they started to leave, Tommy grabbed John's arm and jerked him back. "I'm not done with you." 

John tried to pull away. "Hey!" 

Tommy swung a fast punch, catching John in the jaw and knocking him to the floor. Daria rushed over, only to be pushed back, sprawling. 

Trying to recover his orientation, John attempted to get up. Tommy grabbed his shirt collar and lifted, throwing a punch into John's face at the same time. 

"What the hell is going on!" Principal Angela Li yelled from the far end of the corridor. 

Tommy dropped John and stepped away. "The punk jumped me." 

Daria crawled over to John. "How bad are you hurt?" 

John was too dazed to say anything. 

Ms. Li stormed past Tommy and stood over John and Daria. "John Lane. I'd started to think you were different from the rest of your family. Clearly, I was wrong. How dare you? 

Daria looked up. "John didn't do anything." 

"Ms. Morgendorffer. Mr. Sherman is our honored guest and I will not have our students getting into fights with him." 

Disgusted, Daria said, "He's propositioned almost every girl he's come across and insulted everyone else. Some honored guest." 

"Athletes of his caliber can be a little high strung." 

A seldom heard, quiet voice said from the crowd. "Tommy started it. John didn't do anything." 

"Dawn? What did you say?" Ms. Li faced the pudgy girl with earphones. 

"John didn't fight back. Never had a chance." 

"Are you sure?" 

John winced and pulled back when Daria touched his already swelling eye and cheek. 

Daria held his head and asked, "Can we get the school nurse?" 

"Why would…" Ms. Li suddenly noticed the growing discoloration on his face. "Oh." 

A blond girl, Jennifer, said from the growing crowd. "They were trying to walk away, but Tommy pulled him back and hit him. He also grabbed my butt earlier." 

Tommy glared at the crowd. 

One of the cheerleaders, Angie, said, "He grabbed me, too." 

Ms. Li's eyes narrowed and she shifted her gaze to Tommy. "Mr. Sherman?" 

"Hey, they're all a bunch of losers trying to protect a misery chick and her pathetic boyfriend." 

"He wanted me to go his hotel room with him," head cheerleader Brittany Taylor said as she joined the crowd. 

Mack pushed through and knelt next to John, saying, "Daria, let me help." 

With Mack doing most of the work, they lifted John to his feet and steadied him. Daria said, "We're taking him to the nurse." 

The school's police resource officer jogged up. "Ms. Li?" 

She pointed to Tommy. "Officer, please escort Mr. Sherman off school property. He is not welcome back."

* * *

A pear-shaped woman in her forties, Nurse Chase nudged John's hand to adjust the ice pack he held to the side of his face. "Looks like a lot of swelling and bruising. But to be on the safe side, you should see your family doctor." 

Voice slurred by swollen lips, John said, "Um…Daria, do we have a family doctor?" 

"His name is Davidson," Daria told him. She said to the nurse, "May I use your phone? So I can call my mother?" 

"Oh, please do." Chase turned back to John. "You don't know your doctor's name?" 

John laughed a little. "Ouch. Um, Daria's parents are my guardians; I've only been with them since last fall. Before then, I didn't see a doctor much. Really, only if I needed to go to the emergency room or something." 

Daria dialed the phone and waited patiently until she heard an answer. "Hello, Marianne? It's Daria. I need to talk to my mother…Yes, very important…" She listened patiently before replying with an uncharacteristic edge to her voice reminiscent of her mother's stern, lawyer tone. "Tell her this can't wait. John is in the nurse's office and she thinks he should see a doctor…A guest of the school beat him up…thanks." 

The nurse looked worried. "This wasn't done by another student?" 

John said, "This is Tommy Sherman's handiwork." 

The nurse stood quickly. "Damn, damn, damn. John, I'll be right back." She went to her office and returned moments later with a camera. "Please take the ice away for a minute. I have to document this." 

Daria jerked the phone away from her ear and Helen's voice sounded clearly, "…is going on? 

"Short version, a former football player visiting the school was against my locker," Daria explained. "We exchanged a few words and when John and I tried to leave, he grabbed John and hit him." 

Daria's eyes blinked in response to Helen's outbursts. "No, John didn't fight back…The guy was alone…Supposed to have goal post dedicated to him…Okay, we'll be in the nurses' office…Bye." 

Nurse Chase photographed John's face from several angles with a Polaroid, and then set the camera down. "Okay, put the ice back on." 

John replaced the ice pack. "What was that all about?" 

"Mr. Sherman is an adult. I'm required to document and report anything that could even potentially be considered abuse." 

Daria crossed the room and sat next to John. "Mom's on her way." She said to Nurse Chase, "Mom's going to take him to the doctor." 

"Good." She patted John on the shoulder. "I need to get these photos ready for the police." Nurse Chase went back into her office and pulled the door mostly closed, leaving them in semi-privacy. 

John said, "I was a little out of it back there. Why did Li believe us so quickly?" 

Daria shrugged. "If I were cynical about things..." 

John smiled and winced at the pain. "You, cynical?" 

"I'd say that the under the age of consent, popular head cheerleader claiming Tommy tried to get her to a hotel room during school hours was the key." 

"Figures." 

After knocking on the door, the track coach, Ms. Morris, entered the room. "I heard. How are you?" 

John pulled the ice pack away briefly. "My legs are fine, but the face is a bit worse for wear." 

"That damn moron." Ms. Morris was seething. "John, take off from practice for the rest of the week and get better." 

"Yes, ma'am. You don't have to tell me twice." 

"See you later." Ms. Morris stepped out and closed the door. 

Daria stared in surprise. "Wow. She was almost, nice." 

John put his hand on Daria's. "I wouldn't go…" 

In the hallway, they heard Ms. Morris yelling, "Angela! That brain-dead hunk of meat almost took out my best sprinter!" 

John finished his sentence. "…that far." 

"My lack of faith in humanity is restored. That also means that Ms. Li is probably on her way here." 

"Oh, joy." 

Instead of Ms. Li, the school's police resource officer came in. He looked back into the corridor. "Ms. Li, you'll have to wait until I'm done. Nurse Chase can serve as a witness to the interview, and it will be recorded." He closed the door and said, "Mr. Lane, are you up to giving a statement?"

* * *

The officer turned off his tape recorder. "Thank you, John, Daria. Almost everyone who was in the hallway corroborated your story. I have the photos from Nurse Chase and the report will be filed this afternoon." 

"Ms. Li!" Helen's voice pierced through the wall. "Don't even think of getting in my way right now." 

Daria motioned to the door with her eyes. "Sounds like Mom." 

The nurse said, "She sounds a little agitated." 

The door swung open and Helen faced the officer. "In the future, you'd be well advised to wait for counsel before beginning an interrogation." 

The officer was taken aback. "Mrs. Morgendorffer?" 

"Yes." 

"Ma'am, I was only taking their statements as victims, and neither asked for counsel." 

"I am a lawyer and act as their legal counsel." 

"Yes, ma'am. Actually, I was done here. Their story was confirmed by numerous witnesses. But if you want a copy of the interview recording, I'll be happy to make one." 

"Consider yourself asked." 

"Yes, ma'am." He pulled some forms from his briefcase. "Since you're the parent and legal guardian of these two, here's the paperwork if you want to file battery charges against Mr. Sherman." 

Helen expertly scanned them. "Daria, you didn't say anything about this brute pushing you." 

"I didn't think about it," Daria said and pointed to John. "He was the one hurt." 

Helen signed the charges. "Thank you, officer." 

"Have a good day, Mrs. Morgendorffer." The officer went to the door. "I hope you feel better, John." 

As soon as he left, Ms. Li entered the room. "Mrs. Morgendorffer, I'm so glad you could get here quickly. Concerned and active parents are the heart of our school." 

Helen stood directly in front of Ms. Li. "Now, would you care to explain why this 'guest' was roaming around the school campus unescorted?" 

Ms. Li made calming motions with her hands. "Mrs. Morgendorffer. I sincerely apologize for this terrible incident. I can assure you that the situation will be thoroughly investigated." 

"I think the situation is very clear. A dangerous individual was allowed unsupervised access to school property and students. Not a very sound example of school security." 

"Well, I…" Flustered, Ms. Li wasn't able to finish her sentence. 

"I expect that you will very graciously pay for any and all of John's medical expenses and fully support our action against this Mr. Sherman." 

Ms. Li nodded. "We can do that." 

"Excellent, Ms. Li. I understand that Daria was also attacked by Mr. Sherman. Therefore, I'm taking both John and Daria to see our family physician. I want to make sure neither has any unnoticed injuries." 

"Oh, yes. Please do, Mrs. Morgendorffer. I'll personally inform their teachers that the absence is properly excused." 

"Thank you, Ms. Li." 

Helen guided John and Daria out the door and told them, "I'm parked out front." 

Ms. Li followed them out of the Nurses station and headed toward her office. Along the way, she angrily spoke into a small recorder, "Inform the Football Boosters' Association that their 'guaranteed' moneymaker could cost us a fortune and I expect them to make it up if it does." 

At Helen's red SUV, she stopped them and looked under John's ice pack. "I'm proud of you. You tried to walk away and didn't throw a punch." 

John said, "Like I had a chance to." 

"Chance or not, you didn't, that's the important part. Get in; we still have to take you to Dr. Davidson." 

She walked around the car and got behind the wheel. Helen started the vehicle and thought for a few moments. She nodded to herself and turned to face John in the back seat. "That report also said you got between that goon and Daria." 

"I didn't want him to push her again." 

"Thank you."

* * *

From the dining table, Quinn looked over her shoulder toward John and Daria eating dinner in the living room. "Why am I stuck at the table tonight?" 

Helen set her fork down and glared at Quinn. "Because John had a very rough time today, we're letting him relax on the sofa. Daria, too. As far as I can tell, the roughest time you had today was deciding on the order you turned boys down for dates." 

"Mo-om, order is important." 

"Quinn, I'm not in the mood tonight. You go take a look at John's face and tell me you had a day like his." 

Jake's hands clenched, crumpling the newspaper he was reading. "I know what it's like to have days like that! Did my old man care? No! 'That's why I'm paying for that military school,' he said. He…" 

Helen put a hand on his arm. "Jake." 

Jake started and looked at Helen. "What? He…oh." Jake came down from his rant. "Sorry." 

Quinn inhaled to speak, but thought better of it. 

John lifted a small portion of food from the plate resting on a folding tray table with a spoon. He only opened his mouth a small amount to accept it and slowly chewed to minimize the pain. He said to Daria, "Remind me never to get into a fight again. This sucks." 

"I'll be more than happy if you don't get into another fight." 

On the television, a local newscaster said, "Headlining college football news; more trouble for Big Rock University's starting quarterback Tommy Sherman. He was arrested today on two counts of battery after an altercation at Lawndale High School, his alma mater. Sherman was arrested last year after a fight in a nightclub near Big Rock University. If he's found guilty of this incident, it would be a violation of Sherman's plea bargained parole and an end to his football career. Big Rock Athletic Director, 'Rocket' Turner, said the college junior had turned his life around and that he believes their investigation will show that Mr. Sherman was only defending himself." 

John said in disgust, "Yeah, defending himself from two kids he outweighed by over a hundred pounds each." 

Daria shook her head. "I think he outweighed the two of us put together." 

"Big Rock fans have already collected fifteen thousand dollars for Mr. Sherman's defense," the announcer said. "Lawndale High School Principal Angela Li declined to comment, citing the ongoing investigation." 

John punched the off button of the television remote. "A little support from the school for us would've been appreciated."

* * *

_I think I know how Kevin felt in that "ugly" costume Ms. Barch made him wear,_ John thought as he trudged toward the classroom of his least favorite subject, math. Near the door, Brittany waved him to the side. Confused, he followed and asked, "What's going on?" 

Brittany twirled her hair nervously and spoke quietly. "That looks like it really hurts." 

"It does." 

Brittany looked at the floor, shuffled her feet and twirled her hair more. 

John said, "Did you want to say something? Or just make observations about my massively bruised face." 

She looked up. "Um, thanks for standing up to that…jerk." 

"I think it was more like knocked on my butt by that jerk." 

"Everybody was just letting him say and do whatever he wanted. But you stepped in when he pushed Daria." 

"Brittany, I was only trying to get us out of there." 

"To protect Daria." Brittany looked into the classroom where Kevin was already seated. "I wish other people would things like that." 

"I don't remember doing a good job of it." 

"You tried to get up after he hit you and pushed Daria again." 

"Brittany, I…" 

The bell rang and the balding math teacher stood at the door, arms folded. "Miss Taylor, Mr. Lane. Could I interest you in fifty minutes of mathematics today, or do you have something more pressing to do?" 

John rushed toward the door and said to Brittany. "With my 'C' average, I can't afford to annoy him." 

"Oh, me too." Brittany ran into the room behind him. 

The teacher shook his head. "Kids."

* * *

Mr. DeMartino tapped on the note covered chalkboard. "And so, riding a wave of yellow journalism rampant at the time, Congress voted to go to war with Spain. Tomorrow, we'll look at the war and the long-term effects it had on American history." 

As the class started to leave, he said, "Daria, John, I'd like to see you." 

They looked at each other and shrugged. 

When the room was empty, Mr. DeMartino displayed a brief, rare smile. "In my opinion, Mr. Sherman was one of the biggest disgraces this school has had the misfortune of graduating. I know it may be small consolation for the pain you're feeling young man, but it's very heartening to know that at least two of my students aren't mindless sheep. Thank you."

* * *

"Can this day possibly get any weirder?" John wondered as he placed his lunch tray on the table. 

Daria placed her tray next to his. "No kidding. Several girls have already asked me how I made you so loyal." 

John laughed and shook his head. "The stories make me sound like some knight leaping in front of a dragon." 

"Hey, you're the man of the hour." 

"All for imitating a punching bag." 

Daria looked at him. "Actually, you were trying to defuse the situation." 

John pointed to his face. "Hey, I wanted to avoid something like this." 

"It didn't help when I tried to sneak past him." 

"He didn't need to push you. 

"And you did try to get us away after that." 

"Like I said, I was trying to avoid pain." 

Daria reached under the table and held his hand. "If that's all you were doing, you wouldn't have gotten between me and Tommy." 

"All right. I didn't want you hurt, either." 

"So you do deserve some of the praise." 

"Daria, I'll admit I didn't want anything to happen to you, but I wasn't trying to be a hero." 

"But that's how you ended up." 

Jodie, with Mack beside her, approached the table and said, "Hey guys, mind if we sit here?" 

John pointed to the bench across the table. "Sure. Um, Mack. I didn't get a chance to say anything to you about helping me to the nurse's office." 

Mack waved a hand. "No problem." 

"John," Jodie said with an impish grin. "I suppose I should thank you for getting me out of that speech yesterday." 

John laughed, winced, and extended his hand across the table to Jodie. "That I'll accept. But, you owe me one." 

Jodie shook his hand. "Deal."

* * *

"So that's what the inside of the _Lawndale Lowdown_ looks like," John said as he and Daria walked toward the school's front doors." 

"Exciting way to spend the afternoon instead of track practice, isn't it?" 

"Well, I was expecting something like a movie newsroom, not a converted storeroom with a couple old computers and tables." 

"Still better than Highland." 

"You were on the paper at your old school?" 

Daria frowned. "Yes. But, it's a subject best not talked about…ever." 

"Uh…sure. Never talked about." 

In the circular drive in front of the school, John's brother, Trent, waited in a blue car. John reached inside and turned the engine off before shaking Trent's shoulder. "Wake up." 

Groggy, Trent blinked and said, "Monique, a tattoo would look great there." 

_Please, no more details. _ "Trent!" John said louder. 

"Oh, hey Johnnie. Hey Daria." 

Daria said, "Hi," as she climbed in the back seat. 

After John had closed the door, Trent looked at him in the mirror. "You know, I seem to remember that Tommy got into a few fights in school." 

Daria asked, "You knew him, didn't you?" 

"A little, he didn't show up for class too much." 

"Not like you." 

Trent laughed and started the car. "I might've missed a few classes." 

"In local sports news." The radio came on as the car started. "Big Rock football player and former Lawndale star Tommy Sherman was released from Lawndale County Jail today when the Big Rock Athletic Association posted his bail. He was arrested yesterday after an altercation with two students at Lawndale High. . Following his release, the troubled football player said…" 

"Kids today just got not respect for anybody," Tommy said on the recording. 

Trent glared angrily at the radio. "Like you ever did?" 

The recording went on, "The chick made a play for me and her boyfriend decided to jump me." 

The radio announcer said, "Lawyers for Sherman stated that they will be looking into filing charges against the students…" 

John gripped the edge of the open window and growled, "That lying son-of-a-bitch!" 

"…and filing a lawsuit against the school for rescinding an offer to dedicate part of the football stadium to him." 

Daria shivered and moved closer to John. "Now I'm really worried. Ms. Li is going to be on our side."

* * *

John and Daria sat on her bed while Helen explained, "The full resources of my law firm will be behind both of you. We'll be in contact with the school board's lawyers tomorrow. With the number of witnesses, that bastard's legal team must be trying to scare us into dropping the charges. That's not going to happen." 

John nodded his head. "Thanks, Mrs. Morgendorffer." He choked a little before saying, "It means a lot." 

Helen squatted down in front of him. "John, you're family." 

John moved forward and hugged her. "I'm learning that." 

Surprised, Helen recovered and hugged him back. After a few moments, she stood and said, "Dinner will be ready in a bit, I'll call you then." 

Daria watched as Helen partially closed the door before saying, "Mom might spend most of her life in her own world, but sometimes she can surprise you." 

"No kidding." He picked up Daria's hand and kissed it. "Maybe we'll get through this." 

She smiled at his gesture. "Maybe we will." 

A brief knock at the door caused them to separate. Quinn said, "Daria, can I come in?" 

"What is it?" Daria asked. 

Almost shy, Quinn stepped into the room. "John…" 

After waiting a few moments, he said, "Yes?" 

"I, um…think it was really neat that you would get in a fight for Daria." 

Daria had a look of disbelief. "I suppose you would be impressed by that, Quinn. Guys fight over you all the time." 

Quinn's hands went to her hips. "God, Daria. Don't you get it? Guys get in fights over me. John got in one for you!" 

Taken aback, Daria muttered, "Oh." 

Quinn's gaze passed from Daria to John. "Thanks…for protecting my sister." 

John nodded and smiled. 

Daria looked down. "Quinn…um…that was nice to say." 

Quinn grinned and stepped toward the door. "You two might be unpopular geeks, but you have something." 

John reached over and held Daria's hand. "I like to think so." 

Quinn started out the door and quickly turned back to say, "I hope you keep it," before heading back to her room. 

Daria smiled and leaned against John. "I hope so, too."

* * *

Outside math class the next day, Brittany once again waved John to the side. He asked, "What is it, this time?" 

Brittany actually looked shy. "Um, could you help me with something?" 

"Um…I guess, depending on what it is." 

"Could you show Kevin?" 

Not certain, John asked, "Show him, what?" 

"How to be like you." 

"Huh?" 

Brittany wrung her hands and sadly said, "It's sweet to see you with Daria." 

"I, uh, I'm just being myself." 

Brittany nodded. 

"But, I'll try to talk to him." 

Her face brightened. "Thanks." 

John leaned against a wall. _Open mouth, insert foot, chew vigorously._

* * *

Mrs. Bennett's economics class was interrupted by Ms. Li calling on the intercom, "Mrs. Bennett, please send Mr. Lane and Ms. Morgendorffer to my office." 

The teacher waved her hand at the door. "You two better get going, and take your books." 

Daria closed hers and pulled out her backpack. "You've got a point." 

John slid a book into his backpack, sarcastically saying "Oh, boy. This sounds like fun." 

"Remember, we call Mom if there's any real trouble." 

"Trust me, I can remember that." 

They walked through the corridors in silence. At the school's front office, the secretary escorted them to Ms. Li's office with only a perfunctory, "This way, please." John also noticed the police resource officer seated and watching. 

Three men in expensive suits were already seated inside, along with Tommy Sherman. Ms. Li indicated two folding chairs. "Please have a seat." She pointed to the three suited men in order. "This is Mr. Stiles, the school board's attorney, who has already been in contact with your mother. Mr. Jellico, Tommy Sherman's lawyer, and Mr. Sullivan from the District Attorney's office. Gentleman, this is Daria Morgendorffer and John Lane." 

Daria and John sat down in the chairs. 

Mr. Sullivan pointed a television remote at a VCR hooked up to a television. "Why don't we start with the recorded evidence?" 

An image of Tommy leaning against a locker in a school corridor appeared on the screen. In the jerky motion of compressed video, John and Daria entered the view. They briefly conversed and Daria tried to move behind Tommy to her locker. He pushed her aside and John quickly moved to steady her and interpose himself between her and Tommy. 

Watching, John was surprised by the speed of what happened next. On the video, he was jerked back and punched, Daria pushed to the ground, and John punched again. 

The screen went blank and Mr. Sullivan looked at Mr. Jellico. "I have thirty-two signed affidavits that agree with this surveillance camera footage. Does your client still claim he was assaulted?" 

Mr. Jellico whispered back and forth with Tommy. He shook his head several times and then faced the rest. "These two were insulting and provoked his attack. My client has certain psychological issues dealing with anger management that mitigate the situation." 

Mr. Sullivan asked John, "Mr. Lane, please tell me what was said to Mr. Sherman." 

John licked his lips. "Well, Daria said 'Excuse me,', then he said something about why would he want to talk to her, and um, asked if I wanted to watch." 

A faint twitch hit Mr. Jellico's cheek. 

"Daria said she didn't want to talk to him and that he was on her locker," John said. 

"The school records confirm the locker he was leaning against in the video is assigned to Ms. Morgendorffer," Mr. Stiles dryly stated. 

"Um, he said something like, 'Do you know who I am?' Daria said that just about everyone at school was turning themselves inside out and that she'd seen him insult or proposition almost everyone. I said something about we knew who he was and could he just get out of the way." 

Mr. Sullivan said, "Please go on." 

"Tommy said that I was cocky. I said, 'Why don't you go stare at your goalpost.' I could see he got mad at that and tried to say I didn't want any trouble." 

Daria cut in. "That's when I tried to get past him to my locker. Mr. Sherman pushed me and John stepped in to help. When he suggested we leave and tried to go, Mr. Sherman grabbed him, saying that he wasn't done. John tried to get away and Tommy hit him. When I went to check on John, he pushed me down and pulled John up so he could hit him again. That's when Ms. Li yelled." 

Mr. Sullivan removed a folder from his briefcase. "Thank you, Ms. Morgendorffer, Mr. Lane. You were a little rude, but nothing a reasonable person would come to blows over." He faced Mr. Jellico and said, "You tried to claim Mr. Sherman had emotional problems in Big Rock County last year and it didn't work then. That's why your client's on probation." 

Mr. Stiles pressed his hands together in front of his chest. "Perhaps a bit of incentive. If your client enters into a plea agreement , the School Board of Lawndale County won't file suit against Mr. Sherman for damage done to the school's reputation over his actions. Go to trial, and we will file suit. I've talked with the victims' attorneys and they will do the same." 

Mr. Jellico and Tommy whispered back and forth more, with both getting visibly angry. Tommy's voice rose to audibility, "Look, loser. Coach hired you to get me out of trouble." 

Mr. Jellico whispered again. 

"No!" Tommy yelled at Mr. Jellico. 

Daria noticed a motion behind the frosted glass of the office door and nudged John. He looked over and saw the outline of two police officers just outside. 

"Mr. Sherman, please settle down," Mr. Sullivan told the young man. 

Tommy looked at the faces staring at him. "But…but, I'm Tommy Sherman." 

Everyone continued to watch him. 

He yelled, "She was coming onto me!" 

Daria shook her head. "No. I wanted to get my books for Economics." 

"Come on! All chicks dig me." Tommy pointed at Daria. "You got cold feet because your boyfriend was there. Maybe you didn't want him to watch." 

In disgust, Daria told him, "Please, I have no interest in you." 

"What, you prefer that skinny little punk to me?" 

Daria gently smiled and looked at John. "Yes." 

Tommy raged at the two teens, "I should've shoved you through the wall and stomped your little boyfriend into the floor. Everyone keeps saying we got in a fight. What fight? The puke was out like a light and never knew what hit 'im! But, he'll remember it was Tommy Sherman that did it!" 

Face buried in one hand, Mr. Jellico asked, "What are you offering?"

* * *

John was elated as they walked to their lockers after the meeting. "Wow, we did it! We won! The bully got what he deserves." 

After Daria closed her locker door, she stared at it and shook her head for several seconds. "One more such victory and we are undone." 

John shook his head. "Huh? Tommy pled guilty. Not only will he serve time here, he violated parole from Big Rock and has to serve more time there. His ego's fully deflated and the 'Legend of Tommy Sherman' is dead. This is one for the good guys, right?" 

Daria pointed to the unobtrusive video camera in the hallway. "We probably could've won without it, but that recording proved without a doubt that we were right. Now Ms. Li can justify installing more of them by saying how much they protect students." 

John sagged against the lockers. "Damn."

* * *

Dialog from _The Misery Chick_ by Glenn Eichler. 

Thanks to Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading. 

July 2005   



	9. Good Art Hunting

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. 

This is the ninth John Lane story 

Richard Lobinske

**Good Art Hunting**

"Hey guys. Your poster's really drawing a crowd," Jodie Landon told John Lane and Daria Morgendorffer. 

The three teens stood to one side of several display tables. On them were entries in Lawndale High School's "Student Life at the Dawn of a New Millennium" poster contest. Several members of the school board were gathered around Daria and John's collaboration. John had done a dual painting. On the left, a pretty teen girl sat on a chair and gazed into a mirror, on the right, a teen boy stood proud, showing his well-sculpted muscles. At the bottom was Daria's caption in verse: 

She knows she's a winner,   
she couldn't be thinner.   
Now she goes in the bathroom   
and vomits up dinner. 

He knows he's the man,   
muscles hardened and tan.   
But steroid-caused impotence   
wasn't part of the plan.

Daria said, "Ms. Li wasn't happy about it and Mr. O'Neill about lost his lunch." 

"Which means we must've hit a chord," John added. 

Jodie crossed her arms and looked again at the crowd. "I still can't believe you got away with it." 

John rubbed the side of his face. "Ms. Li's still being careful around us after the Tommy Sherman incident." 

"And milking it for all its worth," Daria muttered. 

Jodie nodded knowingly. "I wouldn't put that past her." 

"I'll take advantage of it as long as I can." John pointed to a woman taking notes on a pad and a man with a camera taking photos of the poster. "A blurb in the paper adds a little bit to my chances of getting into an art school later." 

"There you are, Kiddo!" Daria's father Jake said from most of the way across the room. He balanced a paper plate of finger foods on a paper cup and walked over. 

Daria quietly said to Jodie, "Okay, John has a point. We also got out of eating Dad's cooking tonight." 

In response to Jodie's confused face, John said, "Work's been a little slow for him lately; he's taken to cooking…or attempted cooking. Either way, it has been a break from my efforts or frozen lasagna. But, things like that green macaroni were kind of funky." 

"That's because it oxidized. Or, so Dad claimed." 

Jodie dropped her voice to a whisper as Jake got closer. "The idea of your dad cooking sounds as scary as mine." 

Jake grinned at Jodie. "Hey there. I'm Jake Morgendorffer. Are you a friend of Daria and John's?" 

"Uh, yeah. I'm Jodie Landon." 

Jake tried to shake Jodie's hand, but bobbled the plate and several items fell to the floor. "Dammit!" 

Jodie suppressed a laugh. "Hi Mr. Morgendorffer." 

John stooped down and picked up the loose food. "I got it." 

"Thanks," Jake told him. Back to Jodie, he asked, "Do you have a poster here?" 

"No sir. I'm here representing student government." 

"That's great. Daria, why don't you try for something like student government?" 

Daria looked directly at him. "Who would I represent around here?" 

An attractive woman carrying an infant in her arms and with a diaper bag over one shoulder looked around briefly before spotting Jodie and coming over. "Jodie, it's time we took Evan home for bed." 

"Okay." Jodie stood beside the woman. "Everybody, this is my Mom, Michelle and my little brother, Evan. Mom, this is Daria Morgendorffer, her dad Jake, and John Lane." 

Jake smiled while holding up his plate and cup. "Hey there, Michelle." 

"Good evening, Mr. Morgendorffer. Hi Daria, John." 

Both of them said, "Hi," in response. 

"Do you two have posters in the contest?" 

Jodie's eyes flew open and she started maneuvering Michelle away. "Like Mom said, we should be going." 

Michelle waved. "Nice to meet you." Before they had gone far, she said to Jodie in a lowered voice, "What is wrong with this school? Did you see that horrible poster about bulimia and steroid use? Thank God you don't associate with anyone who makes something like that." 

John and Daria each grabbed one of Jake's upper arms and turned him away, with Daria saying, "Now where did you find those finger sandwiches?"

* * *

Over a breakfast of cereal, Daria folded the Arts section of the paper and handed it to John. "Typical myopic photography we've come to expect from the _Sun-Herald_, but it made it." 

John quickly scanned the photo caption. "Wow, they even spelled your name right." 

"But they left out the poster caption, so now it looks like a beauty queen and a football player." 

"True," John agreed. "But didn't somebody say that any publicity is good publicity? If it makes people want to see the poster, then it'll get them to read your caption." 

"Okay, it works for those that can get off their fat asses, the rest will only see visual without context." 

"Those people would never get it anyway." 

"Hmm. Yeah." 

"I hate waiting. Why couldn't Ms. Li announce the winner this morning instead of after school?" 

"It's a plot to torture you and you alone." 

Quinn finished her breakfast and stood. 

When she didn't move any farther, Daria asked, "Quinn, did you forget how to walk?" 

Quinn stumbled over her words. "Um…the…uh…Fashion Club." 

"Yes?" Daria prompted. "The Fashion Club, what?" 

"We…uh…voted last night to say…thankyoufortheposter." 

John very slowly put his spoon down. "Okay…I'm having hallucinogenic berry flashbacks." 

Daria looked at Quinn in complete surprise. "I'd have thought your bunch wouldn't like it." 

"Daria! Bulimia is not the way to stay beautiful. I mean, kneeling in front of a toilet and making yourself throw up? Eww! With a capital 'U.' That is so unattractive." 

"So you'd rather starve?" 

Quinn huffed in frustration. "Daria, we plan on staying attractive until we're old and like, thirty or something. Why do you think we eat all that healthy food and do yoga?" 

Daria was taken aback. "Oh. Um…" She sighed. "I'm sorry. Thanks for the thank you." 

Quinn had a satisfied smile and looked at John. "And steroids? Bald guys with boobs? Yuck." 

John chuckled. "Thanks." He looked at Jake, still hidden behind the front page of the newspaper. "How does he do that?"

* * *

Ms. Li stood in front of the poster contest entrants, gathered in the school auditorium. Behind her, each poster was set upon an easel. "I want to thank each and every one of you fine, upstanding young people for bringing honor and glory to Lawndale High." 

John leaned over and whispered to Daria, "Is she programmed to say that?" 

"The school board had a hard and difficult job choosing a winner from such an outstanding group of entries," Ms. Li droned. 

Daria whispered back. "Ms. Li an android; that would explain a few things." 

The principal opened an envelope. "I'm pleased to announce the winner is…Brittany Taylor's poster, 'Cheering the Way.'" 

The bouncy blonde jumped up in her seat. "I won! I won!" 

John stared at the crudely drawn poster. "Now I think it's my turn to throw up." 

Daria shook her head. "I passed on the human growth hormone, I'll pass on the steroids."

* * *

Sitting on John's bed, Daria asked him, "That poster contest's still getting to you, isn't it? It's been over a week." 

John stared intently at a canvas set on the floor of his room, surrounded by drop cloths. Frowning, he grumbled, "Brittany's poster was horrible. Any of the others should've won before hers." 

"You know what happened, don't you?" 

He dribbled and splattered paint on the canvas and stepped back. "Yeah, they wanted something positive, upbeat and safe. With no substance at all." 

"That pretty much describes Brittany." 

"Hmph." John evaluated the paint results. "Not enough velocity." He looked back at Daria. "She was used as much as we were." 

"Except she doesn't realize it." 

He dipped a large brush into a can of paint and slung it at the canvas hard, delivering paint in a broad arc. "Good hit, but no control. Damn. And there's not much we can do." 

"I can't even write a column for the _Lowdown_. A lot of people saw those posters and also must be wondering the same thing. But if I write it, it looks like sour grapes and undermines anything I say." 

John looked at the window, threw it open and looked down. A hedge grew next to the house and a moderate wind blew in his face. "Frack! That won't work. Your folks would blow a fuse if I got paint on the brick outside or on the plants." He closed the window and shook his head. "And nobody else there will touch it?" 

"Won't even go near." 

He flipped open a plastic tool box and removed a plastic syringe. John filled it with paint and squirted it onto the canvas. "Nice possibilities but still have the control problem." 

Daria dropped her chin onto her hands. "Control problem is right: Ms. Li." 

John sat down and put an arm around her shoulders. "Sometimes I wonder if she ran a prison before coming to Lawndale."

* * *

Nearing the end of his history class, Mr. DeMartino said, "And finally, we will be teaming up with the Science and Language Arts departments for an interdisciplinary field trip to Jim's Paintballing Jungle." 

John sat up in his chair. 

Mr. DeMartino leaned over, directly in Kevin Thompson's sleeping face and ratcheted his voice up a notch in volume. "An activity that some of you may find more taxing than sleeping through class!" 

Kevin started and sputtered, "Um... the League of Nations?" 

Mr. DeMartino spun and looked for another target. "And why are we going to engage in simulated combat? Daria?" 

Bored, Daria said, "Because no high school education is complete until you've chased your fellow students around the woods with toy guns?" 

Mr. DeMartino chuckled and said, "Your sarcasm amuses me, Daria. I hope it provides you comfort when you're cowering in a foxhole. No, we're going to study how warfare affects all aspects of culture. " 

The corners of John's mouth turned up as he listened. 

"Now, we're going to need parent volunteers." Mr. DeMartino half-shouted, "That is, if anyone can pull themselves away from their six figure jobs as sycophants!" 

Kevin raised hand and stupidly grinned. 

"Yes, Kevin?" Mr. DeMartino said, dreading what the student may say next. 

Kevin told him, "My dad's not a sycophant, Mr. D. He's a contractor." 

Mr. DeMartino narrowed his eyes and stared straight at the quarterback. "Kevin, stay close to me when you get to the paintball range, okay, son?" 

"Sure!" 

Mr. DeMartino's laughed echoed in the room when the bell rang. 

While leaving the classroom, Daria sighed and said, "Who would've thought the school could come up with something this moronic." 

"Um…" John gave Daria a sly smile, "I want to go." 

"You what? This has got to be the dumbest thing since Self-Esteem class." 

"Trust me, I don't want to go for the reasons the school wants me to go." 

Warily, she said, "All right, why do you want to go? Do I need to check you for a fever?" 

John grinned with glee. "Jackson Pollack would've given up his left nut for a paintball gun." 

A small, impish smile spread on Daria's lips. "You're not thinking…" 

"About turning our fellow students into running works of art? Would I do something like that?" 

"Without a moment's hesitation or hint of remorse." 

"You know me too well."

* * *

John looked over the top of a paintball supply catalog at the television when he heard the announcer say, "Are fish using our oceans as their own private toilet? A _Sick, Sad World _exclusive, right after this." 

Perched on her bed to read over his shoulder, Daria turned the TV off with a remote when she heard the door open. Noticing Quinn, she said, "The bathroom's down the hall, or there's an ocean that way." 

Quinn ignored her sister pointing a thumb at the window. With a hint of teasing, she said, "Ugh. You two are even geekier in private." 

Daria shot back, "I'm sorry, the room's already at maximum occupancy. Please exit through the front." 

"Look, I don't want to know what you two do in private, but please don't tell Mom and Dad that they're looking for paintball volunteers, okay?" 

John laid the open catalog against his chest. "Trust me, we don't want them to see what's going to happen." 

"You're up to something, right?" 

Daria said, "We'll neither confirm nor deny. However, all of us have a common goal: no mention of paintballing or volunteering to Mom and Dad." 

Quinn nodded. "Agreed." 

"Later," Daria told her, "After we've achieved this goal, we'll resume the age-old appearance that peace in this region of the house is impossible." 

"Good plan." Quinn made a fast exit, stopping briefly at the door to say, "But you two still look cute together." 

Daria pushed her glasses up and rubbed her eyes. "Does she have to keep saying 'cute?'"

* * *

John reached back over the car seat to grab a paper bag marked "Jim's Paintballing Jungle" that contained different color paint balls and a plastic bag with several cartridges of instant film. "Thanks for the ride, Trent." 

One arm resting on the open window, John's brother said, "No problem. Good to get way for a bit. Maybe Axel's done with Monique's latest piercing job." 

"You and her on the outs again?" 

"Yeah. No big deal." 

"Whatever." 

"Heard from Mom lately?" 

"Not since she called about Uncle Max going on the wagon after spending a night at the family reunion listening to Wind." 

Trent laughed and coughed. "It almost would've been worth the trip to see that." 

"Nothing's worth putting up with the croquet tournament." 

"Hmm, yeah." 

"Later." 

"Yeah, later Johnny." 

Trent drove off and John went inside the house and quietly went up to his room to stash the bags out of sight. In a better mood, he loudly thumped down the stairs three steps at a time. 

Walking around the stairs to the kitchen, he heard Quinn cry out, "The Fashion Club put me in charge of figuring out a style to prevent helmet hair. I didn't know they were going to do it! I can't take all this pressure..." 

"Don't beat yourself up," came Daria's voice. "You held out a good ten seconds." 

Helen said, "Paintballing! That's exciting, isn't it, Daria?" 

_There goes no mention of paintball. _ John saw the three seated at the dining table and Quinn's hair was styled into a series of tight braids. He stepped into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. "At least it gets us out of class for the day." 

Helen turned to him. "Oh, John. There you are. Are you excited about this?" 

"Compared to Mr. O'Neill's class, watching a sloth race is exciting." 

Helen shuddered, "That man is just so...creepy." 

John saw Jake out of the corner of his eye. Keeping his hand low behind the counter, he motioned for him to stay back. Jake gave a thumb's up and quietly ascended the stairs. 

Helen brightly said, "I don't suppose they need volunteers for this?" 

All three teens said together, "No!" 

Disappointed, Helen said, "Oh, darn!"

* * *

Dressed in olive drab fatigues with the extra paintballs and the Polaroid camera stuffed into pockets, John looked out the school bus window. He read a billboard out loud, "Only twenty miles to the Great White Shark." He contemplated a moment before going on, "Sharks don't normally eat humans, but since we're almost certain Ms. Li isn't one, maybe we could make a side trip." 

Sitting next to him in a similar jumpsuit, Daria said, "You know how sharks don't bite lawyers out of professional courtesy? They probably have a mutual recognition agreement with school administrators." 

"Oh, well. It was an idea." 

"Maybe you can get a shot at Ms. Li today." 

"You really are trying to cheer me up." 

"You were starting to make me sound upbeat."

* * *

The bus ground to a halt and students began to file off the bus. Daria blinked her eyes several times. "Finally." 

John covered a yawn with his hand. "You'd think somebody other than Jim's Paintball Jungle and the Great White Shark would buy billboard space on this road. A little reading variety would've been nice." 

They waited for the line to pass and were the last to exit. Helen and Jake, dressed in khaki and desert camouflage, stood in front of them waving and calling, "Surprise!" 

John wondered, "What are they doing here?" 

Daria sighed in frustration. "I guess tormenting us in the privacy of our own home wasn't enough." 

Mr. O'Neill came over to Daria and John. "Isn't this great? I called your mother about the school review board meeting, but she was going out of town that night and asked if we were looking for paintball volunteers! I only wish more parents cared enough to take such an active role in their child's education. 

Jake chimed in, "Me, too!" 

Helen tiredly said, "Yes." 

Under her breath, Daria said to John, "Where's an air strike when you need one?"

* * *

Jim was a disreputable looking character in simple fatigues with cut-off sleeves. After gathering the students and chaperones together, he'd gone over the rules and issued paintball guns, helmets and goggles to each. Red or blue bandanas were tied onto everyone's arm and they started to the respective teams. Daria followed John over to the "Hanoi Hilton" replica that served as the range's main entry building and equipment supply, so he could surreptitiously check in his extra ammo. 

John started over toward the red team. "See you in a bit, after we're dead," he said to her. 

Wearing a blue armband but not yet moving toward her team, Daria returned, "If we end up in some kind of Valhalla, I'm not dressing up as a valkyrie." 

"I'd have thought you'd enjoy choosing the slain." 

"That part could be fun, but I'm not dragging their sorry butts anywhere." 

"Hmm. Good point."

* * *

John wandered over to the team as Mr. O'Neill said, "So, seize this golden opportunity to say, 'Private Young Person reporting, sir or madam, ready, willing, and able to learn the true meaning of teamwork.'" 

Brittany jumped up and gave a cheer. "Let's go, team!" 

"That's it, Brittany!" Mr. O'Neill looked around, "Who else on Team Red wants to say something before we begin? John?" 

John ignored him and looked at some of the other team members, Ms. Barch, Helen, Mack, Sandi, Joey and Jeffy were nearby. 

Mr. O'Neill tried to coax a reply. "Now John, there's no 'I' in team." 

Ms. Barch growled, "Oh, shut up!" 

Mr. O'Neill stopped momentarily and then said, "Now, before we go out on the battlefield, would anyone like to share their feelings?" 

Ms. Barch fired off several rounds into the air behind Mr. O'Neill. He sobbed and ran off behind a nearby shelter. 

Ms. Barch dropped her gun to the ready. "Now that Mr. O'Neill has predictably deserted us in our prime, I will take command. Now, if we spread out in a long line and sweep towards the flag..." 

"Excuse me, Ms. Barch?" Brittany raised her hand. "Since they can't see us very well because of the terrain, we can split up and they won't know where we are, then we can attack them from three sides, drive them out to the one side that they think is safe, and then set up an ambush so we can capture them all at once! Probably be a good idea to set up a secret observation post on the high ground so we can watch them without them seeing us." 

Like the rest, John was surprised by Brittany's lucid tactical suggestion. _Okay, where's Mr. Serling? I know we just entered the Twilight Zone._

"What?" Brittany said to the staring crowd. 

Ms. Barch smiled at her approvingly. "That's very good, Brittany." 

Brittany bounced and yelled, "Okay, team, let's go!" When she saw John standing still, said, "Come on John!" 

"I'm more of the scout type. You know, fast runner working on his own type of thing. Go check things out." 

Brittany nodded in approval. "Good idea, John. If Plan A fails, you can lead the rescue to us!" 

Soft thumps of compressed gas releasing came from the nearby bushes and Ms. Barch said something that didn't make sense. John felt a sharp smack on his shoulder and saw blue paint splash. "Ow! Those paintball thingies hurt." 

"Oh, no, you're hit." Brittany sadly told him, "You're out of the game." 

John played things up. "Ah, Dammit!" He let the gun rest back against his shoulder and stomped away. _Now the real fun begins._

* * *

John sat down among some bushes and loaded a mixture of different colored paint into the magazine of the gun. He also unpacked his camera and checked that the film cartridge was in properly. "Okay, these things hurt more than I expected, so I don't think anyone's going to be in a good mood for photography if I hit them a bunch of times. So, I guess we're doing landscapes instead." He carefully got up. "Well, maybe just a few people." 

He saw Daria walking nearby, he carefully aimed and placed a bright yellow spot on the side of her helmet. 

Daria wiped at the paint with a finger and looked at it. "What took you so long?" 

John shrugged. "Eh, I took a while to reload." 

"Nice head shot. Trying to tell me something?" 

"Yeah, those paintball thingies hurt. I didn't want you getting any ideas about payback." 

She reached into a pants pocket and removed a stout cylinder. "I thought you might like a little extra bang." 

John took the object and saw "Gore Grenade 4000" written on the side. 

Daria looked around quickly before risking a fast kiss. "The old buzzard that runs the place was sufficiently mercenary to accept a little extra to sell me one and keep it quiet. I'm sure you can find some kind of artistic expression for it." 

"I'll have to wait for just the right opportunity. Let's find someplace where we can shoot up the landscape."

* * *

"I have to admit that there is a certain satisfaction with this," Daria said after she'd directed a full-automatic burst of paintballs at one of the fake hooches in the "'Nam village." 

John carefully framed a multi-color pattern on another wall in his camera and took a photo, catching the ejected print and slipping it into a shirt pocket. "Oh yeah, Pollack would've loved these things." 

A loud crash of someone running through the underbrush caught their attention and both snuck inside a hooch. One of Quinn's regular admirers, Jamie, stopped to catch his breath. "I…thought Ms. Barch was on your team." 

His friend Joey came to a stop next to him. "Yeah, but she already shot me and Jeffy in the back." 

Jeffy joined the others, mimicking Barch's voice, "Now head home to belch and scratch like the rest of your kind while the women do all the work!" 

Joey said, "Fine by me, just to get away from that crazy woman." 

"Hey," Jamie pointed toward one of the hooches. "Why don't we see if we can find Quinn around here?" 

John turned to Daria and smiled. "Think we should discourage their search?" 

"I think we should encourage them to search…somewhere else." 

"One." 

"Two. 

Both said, "Three," and stood, firing at full automatic. 

With a loud, "Eep!" the three boys jumped and fled as several rounds hit each. 

Daria pointed her gun upward and pulled the trigger. "Oh, well. looks like I'm empty." 

"Tell me the truth. Didn't that feel good?" 

Daria nodded. "Okay, some. You happy?" 

"Gettin' there." 

"Why don't we find something else you can technicolor?" 

"Lead on." 

Distant, random sounds of paintball guns and scattered shouts came from the surrounding woods as they wandered around the village. When something caught his eye, John would stop and observe from several angles before, with gleeful precision, he coated the target with paint. One of her understated smiles gracing her lips, Daria watched with bemusement as John rambled about like a boy with a new toy. 

When Daria turned toward a group of shouts coming close, John was struck by the view of her standing with the paint gun resting on her shoulder, goggles pushed up on her helmet and the chinstrap hanging loose. She raised her free hand to the goggles to bring them down if needed. He grinned, pointed the camera, and clicked. _Sergeant Cynic_. He pocketed the developing image and waited as the sounds moved off in a new direction before seeking a new paint challenge.

* * *

"We better start heading back." Daria pointed to dark clouds quickly closing in. 

"Just a minute." John pulled a zipper bag from one of his pockets and sealed the photos in it. He put the camera in a larger zipper bag and buttoned it into a cargo pocket on his pants. "Let's go." 

Heavy rain hit before they'd gotten more than halfway back to the buses. Heads and shoulders wet from the rain, they crawled into one of the small shelters scattered around the game field. The rain hitting the corrugated metal roof drowned out any outside sounds. 

John patted his pocket. "Glad I got photos. Everything will be washed away after the rain." 

"Sorry." 

"Why I took photos." 

Daria pointed to the small door. "Waiting out the rain in a shack, your education dollars at work." 

"Who says we're not learning important life skills?" 

"I always wanted to learn how to be homeless." Daria lifted the goggles from her fog-covered glasses. "Those did a lot of good. You got anything I can clean my glasses with?" 

After a shake of his head, John said, "No, sorry." 

She frowned and set them aside. "Trying to see through them like that gives me a headache." 

After a while, John noticed Daria shiver and wrap her arms around herself. He put his arms around her and drew Daria close to him. 

She leaned closer and said, "Thanks." 

The sensation of Daria resting comfortably in his arms was wonderful. He kissed the side of her head. "I'm kind of hoping this lasts a while." 

Daria closed her eyes. "I wouldn't object." 

John squeezed gently and said, "We don't get to spend time together like this very much." 

"No, we don't." Daria softly kissed his cheek. 

He brought one hand up and cupped the side of her face, bringing his down for a kiss. John closed his eyes and concentrated on the silken touch of her lips on his as they held it for several long moments. 

Daria looked at him with surprise and quietly said, "Wow." 

"I could say the same." 

She placed her arms around his chest and drew him in for another long kiss. "We should be careful that nobody comes by. 

"I don't think anybody is out running around in this mess." 

"Hmm. You're right." 

"Daria…sometimes it's very frustrating. Being so close to you and barely able to do more than hold hands." 

"I, um, know the feeling. I finally get to know a boy I really like and have to spend most of the time acting like you're my brother." 

John smoothed her auburn hair away from her eyes. "But for a little while today…" 

Daria slid one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer. "For a little while…"

* * *

"Ohhh, yesss! Yesssss!" 

John and Daria started as the sound reached them through the lessening rain. 

Daria asked, "What the hell was that?" 

John looked in the direction of the sound. "Sounded like…." 

"That's it, skinny!" the distant voice called. 

Daria looked uneasily in the same direction. "…like Ms. Barch." 

"Please don't joke like that." 

A second distant voice said, "Oh Janet, I don't…mrmmph." 

John fought down nausea. "That sounded like Mr. O'Neill." 

Daria put her still-fogged glasses on. "I really don't want to hear any more." 

"Let's get out of here before we do." 

Holding Daria's hand, John led them from the shelter and toward the "Hanoi Hilton." 

After a minute, they spotted a tent. John gently tugged on Daria's hand. "This way." 

He saw Ms. Li come out of it and yell back inside, "You look fifty!" She spun and charged across the clearing to another tent and climbed in. 

A wide, happy grin rose on John's face. "Daria, thank you very, very much." 

"For what?" She said and tried to see where he was leading them. 

John pulled the paint grenade from his pocket. "This." 

"Was that Ms. Li?" 

"Uh-huh." 

He walked Daria about ten feet past the tent and stopped. "When I say run; run." John pulled the safety on the grenade and tossed it into the small tent. "Run!" 

A couple seconds later, they heard a loud, wet thump and Ms. Li holler, "What the hell?" 

John was able to get enough foliage between them and the tent before Ms Li barged out, yelling, "Who did that?"

* * *

It didn't take much longer to reach the "Hanoi Hilton." Music blared from it and through holes in the walls, John saw figures dancing inside. He said, "I think I'll pass." 

"Are the buses open?" 

"Hey, they are." 

"Problem solved." 

Just inside the bus, John stopped and pulled a tissue from a box next to the driver's seat. "Clean your glasses?" 

Relieved, Daria said, "Thank you," and accepted the tissue. After carefully wiping her glasses clean, she put them back on. "Much better." 

After looking around the driver's seat some more, John came up with a roll of paper towels. "Care to dry off some?" 

They dried themselves as much as they could before sitting in the middle of the bus, holding hands. John said, "Does your dad have a blow torch in the garage?" 

"Now what are you planning?" 

"I think that's the only thing that will scour the sound out of my ears." 

Daria shuddered and said, "I'm never going to be able to look at either one without feeling nausea." 

John put his arm around her shoulder. "But at least we had a little while." 

"We did." 

Soon the rain stopped and students began to filter out to the busses. To John and Daria's surprise, Ms. Barch and Mr. O'Neill were the first adults to appear, both rumpled and Mr. O'Neill out of breath. She went straight to her bus and he started counting students. 

Mr. DeMartino, looking tired and annoyed, half-muttered, half-sang, "When Johnny comes marching home again, hurrah, hurrah...," when he walked up to the buses. 

Mr. O'Neill called out, "All right, is everyone accounted for?" 

Quinn rushed onto the bus. "Yes. Okay, time to go!" 

Ms. Li, covered from head to foot with lime-green paint, stomped past Mr. O'Neill. "We're leaving." 

"Wait!" he said. "I don't see the Morgendorffers." 

John tore the plastic bag open and pulled his camera free. He quickly aimed and shot a picture of Ms. Li before moving it out of sight. 

Ms. Li said as she got on the other bus, "They drove here. They can drive themselves home. We are getting out of here, now." 

"Yes, Ms. Li." Mr. O'Neill almost jumped onto the bus and told the driver, "Ready." 

After the bus pulled away, Jodie leaned over from the seat in front of John and Daria. "Get the shot?" 

John nodded. 

Jodie gave them a knowing smile. "I'm sure there's a story behind what happened to Ms. Li. Make sure you tell me…after graduation." 

John again nodded. "Let's just say; I've suffered for my art, now it's her turn."

* * *

Quinn dropped the pizza cheese onto the lid of the box sitting on the dinner table. "I wonder where Mom and Dad are?" 

Seated at the table, Daria shrugged. "Maybe they're lost in the underground tunnels that Jim was so proud of." 

"Maybe they didn't get the word right away." John said while lifting a slice. "Ms. Li did high tail it away from the paintball range in a big hurry." 

Quinn giggled. "I know. You should've seen her on the bus trip back. I think she actually scared Ms. Barch." 

John controlled his smile. "I didn't think that was possible." 

Carrying her plate of pizza, Quinn started to walk away. "I kind of noticed you two were out of sight most of the day." 

Daria kept a straight face. "We both got hit early in the game." 

Quinn smiled. "Right." 

John said, "Ask Brittany. She was right there when I was hit at the start." 

"And I wandered around by myself for a while." Daria shrugged. "Ask Mom when she gets home, she saw me." 

"Oh, well. I was hoping for a little fun in your lives. Look, after I eat dinner, I'm going over to Stacy's." Quinn said and walked away. 

"That was close," John said in a low voice. 

"Yeah, but at least we know we did have some fun today."

* * *

Daria was putting the leftover pizza in the refrigerator when they heard the front door open and Helen ranting. "I still can't believe that irresponsible witch left a student behind. That poor Sandi." 

Jake was also ranting. "If I ever find out who stole the distributor cap to my Lexus!" 

"Jake! At least you were sobered up by the time the tow truck arrived." 

"I should hope so after you emptied two magazines of paintballs onto my butt!" 

"That's what you get for drinking on a school field trip like that. You're supposed to set a good example." 

"Like you set a good one by getting into an argument with our children's principal?" 

"She said I looked fifty!" 

"Ah, she's nuts. You don't look fifty…" 

Helen's tone instantly changed to a coo. "You mean that, Jakey?" 

"Oh, um, yeah…yes." 

"Hmm. It doesn't look like the kids are home yet…" 

"Rowr." 

After a minute of quiet, Daria and John cautiously looked around the corner. Helen and Jake were nowhere in sight. They looked at each other, and then looked up. Daria said, "There are earplugs in the garage next to Dad's power tools."

* * *

Dialog from: _The Daria Hunter_ by Peggy Nicoll 

Gore Grenade 4000 from _The Daria Database_ by Peggy Nicoll 

Thanks to Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading 

August 2005 


	10. A Tale of Two Brains

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. 

This is the tenth John Lane story 

Richard Lobinske 

**A Tale of Two Brains**

Seated on her bed, Daria Morgendorffer raised a glass to her lips to cautiously taste the concoction inside. "Hmm. You know, I like it." 

Sitting next to her, John Lane drank from an identical glass. "I thought you would." 

"So tell me; how did you learn to make non-alcoholic coconut daiquiris?" 

"I got recruited to tend bar for a couple parties Mystik Spiral and the Harpies had. The keyboardist for the Harpies…well, when she gets too drunk, tends to lose her inhibitions…and usually her clothes. Monique taught me how to make these to give her after the first one." 

"You were bartending…because?" 

"I was the only one in the house rational enough to keep from mixing up the alcohol and Dad's developing chemicals." 

Daria lightly laughed. 

After knocking, her sister pushed the unlatched door open and said, "Are you two in there?" 

Daria held up her glass and pointed it at a small fake palm tree next to the bed. "No, Quinn. We're taking it easy in Tahiti for a few days." 

Quinn walked in and looked curiously at the tree. "Whatever. Um, I was wondering if...you could give me a little help with an essay." 

Daria raised an eyebrow. "A little help?" 

"Like, could you write it for me?" 

Daria slowly took a drink before saying, "And what's my motivation again?" 

After a quick assessment of the situation, Quinn's shoulders slumped. "This is really gonna cost me, isn't it?" 

"Quinn," John said, "You could save some money and write it yourself." 

"But I have a date tonight!" 

Daria said, "Quinn…what does this look like?" 

"Um, a date. But you two hardly ever go anywhere." 

"Mom and Dad finally have enough trust to let us go out occasionally," Daria explained. "But, we're not pushing our luck." 

"So you can stay here together and write my paper at the same time." 

"No." 

"Do you realize you're making me write my own essay?" 

"Yes." 

Quinn stamped her foot. "Oooh. You were a lot easier to bribe before you met him." 

John held his glass up in a toast. "Just think of me as an educational opportunity." 

Quinn spun and went to her room, saying, "Now I have to cancel my date. Gee, thanks." 

"I'll get it." John got up and pushed the door closed, stopping just before it latched. 

"You are being a bad influence on me," Daria said as he returned. "I could've made fifteen or twenty bucks off of her." 

"But I hope I'm a little more fun." 

"That, you are." She stood and kissed him. 

John abruptly stepped back and whispered, "I hear footsteps." 

Daria's mother pushed the door open. Accusingly, she said, "What in the world did you make in the blender down there?" 

"These." John handed his drink to Helen. "Before you ask, they're nonalcoholic." 

She tasted it and said, "Well, I don't taste anything, but I know these drinks can be made that way." 

Daria stood up. "Mom, how much was left in the blender?" 

"Oh, about half of one of these glasses." 

"Why don't you try some and see if you feel anything." 

Helen peered into the glass and then gave it back to John. "I'm sorry, John, I overreacted. But, you have to admit, what you left downstairs looked suspicious." 

"I guess." 

"Okay, but make sure you clean it up before you go to sleep tonight." She said as she started to leave the room. 

"I will." 

After Helen closed the door, John said, "Wow, she believed me."

* * *

Using a magnet to hold it in place, Helen put a sheet of paper on the refrigerator door. "There. Now it's on full display." 

Daria looked at Quinn's essay with an "A" written in bright red at the top and deadpanned, "Quite the door of achievement." 

"Come on, kiddo." Jake tried to sound enthusiastic. "You want to encourage your sister, don't you?" 

"Yeah, to get her own place." 

John leaned over the counter. "You know, we could convert her room into a combination library and gallery." 

When Quinn walked past John into the kitchen, Jake beamed. "Hey! It's my daughter the genius." 

Helen cooed. "Our own academic achiever." 

Confused, John looked at each and then at Daria, who rolled her eyes at Jake and Helen's comments. 

"We're all so proud of you." Jake turned to face his other daughter. "Aren't we, Daria?" 

She replied, "More like stunned." 

Quinn sweetly smiled at her parents. "Mom, Dad, making you happy is the greatest reward I can ask for. Of course, when other kids get a good grade, they sometimes get a little present." 

Helen cautioned, "Now, Quinn, I really think..." 

Jake interrupted. "I'll handle this. You're absolutely right, sweetheart. You get an A, you should be rewarded." He opened his wallet and removed a twenty dollar bill. "Here ya go!" 

"Thanks, Dad," Quinn said as she took the money. 

Annoyed, Daria said, "Wait. Isn't that a double standard?" 

"Huh?" 

"You just gave her a twenty for getting one A." Daria pointed to herself. "What about all the A's I get for free?" She then pointed at John. "Or the ones he gets in art and P.E.?" 

John kept his mouth shut. _As long as nobody brings up my math grades._

Jake verbally stumbled. "Yeah, but this is a special occasion, so Quinn gets a special reward!" He half-whispered to Daria, "It's a motivational thing." 

Daria folded her arms. "But won't that demotivate the other two students who live here? Whose work is consistently good." 

Helen arched an eyebrow. "Yes, Jake, where are you going with this?" 

"I wasn't finished." Jake pulled two more twenties from his wallet. "Both Daria and John should have consistent rewards for consistently good work." 

John jogged around the counter to take his money. "Cool." 

Quinn shouted, "Hey!" 

Jake passed another twenty to Quinn. "And she gets a special one-time reward for her one-time effort!" 

"But what about a higher reward for maintaining a standard of excellence over time?" Daria couldn't resist an extra tweak. "Perhaps with compound interest?" 

After anxiously looking at all three teenagers, he tossed his wallet to Helen and yelled, "Here, just take it! I told you I was no good at this parenting crap!" before he retreated from the room. 

Quinn looked at her two twenties and at the one each in Daria and John's hands. She pocketed the money and said, "Well, bye! Gotta date." 

Quinn bounced out of the kitchen, leaving Helen alone with Daria and John. She sighed and took two more twenties from Jake's wallet. 

Daria quietly said as she took the money, "Buy John some more of the coconut daiquiri mix, and this never happened." 

Helen smiled. "Done."

* * *

"You let that go pretty cheap. How am I supposed to learn extortion if you give in so easily?" John asked while preparing a canvas for painting. 

Seated cross-legged on John's bed, Daria said, "Because Quinn's essay is going to appear in the _Smart Thoughts_ column of tomorrow's _Lowdown. _ It's going to be great." 

"Great?" 

"Her essay is bad, but it shows creativity. That must be why Mr. O'Neill gave it an A. And now, it'll get put on public display." 

"But knowing Quinn's friends, they'll think it's brilliant." 

"Exactly. They'll think she's a brain and Quinn will get a taste of what I go through. Like the way I got a taste of her life back when I did that science project with Kevin and the J-boys started chasing after me."

* * *

John set his cafeteria tray down and took a seat. "Yum. Sloppy Joes. I wonder if they used real Joes in the mix." 

Already seated, Daria said, "Even if they used tofu Joes, it's safer than the meatloaf." 

Taking a copy of the school paper from his backpack, John pointed to the _Smart Thoughts_ column. "This intro must've really annoyed her: '_Academic Imprisonment_, by Quinn Morgendorffer. Quinn is a freshman and the sister of _Clear Reasons_ columnist, Daria Morgendorffer. Lawndale High is proud of these writing sisters.'" 

Daria faintly smiled. "You know, sometimes Jodie has a subversive sense of humor." 

Her hair pulled up under a baseball cap and wearing dark sunglasses, Quinn slid onto the bench to the other side of Daria from John, saying, "Could you put that away? They're everywhere." 

Daria turned. "What are you doing here? Bomb scare at your table?" 

Quinn motioned with her hands. "Keep it down, okay? I'm trying to keep a low profile since the paper came out. You knew about it, didn't you?" 

"Of course." 

"And you didn't warn me?" 

"I wanted it to be a surprise." Daria half-smiled. "I kept a copy for Mom to frame." 

"Gee, thanks." Quinn quivered in frustration. "The intro said you were my sister! Now everyone thinks I'm a brain, too!" 

"Welcome to the club." 

Pleading, Quinn asked, "I can't be a brain! My friends will hate me!" 

John shrugged on shoulder. "Eh, I'm sure you could find some new ones. Maybe with the Chess Club." 

Daria put her finger to her chin in mock thought. "Or possibly…the Mathletics team." 

Quinn sighed heavily. "Now you're just being silly. Hey, maybe I can steal all the newspapers before anyone else reads them." 

Daria squinted at her. "Wait a minute. You don't even have lunch this period, do you?" 

"Of course not! I cut Science so I can talk to you." Quinn looked around the room. "I'm trying to avoid being a brain, remember?" 

"Oh, that. I wouldn't worry too much about it."

* * *

Concerned, John sat on the grass beside Daria during their afternoon break. "The meeting with Mr. O'Neill was that bad?" 

Daria rubbed the bridge of her nose. "He complained that my writing had been a little flat lately and that he was bringing in someone for one-on-one tutoring." 

"Let me guess, a snotty upperclassman?" 

Daria groaned. "Worse. Quinn." 

John's jaw dropped. "You're…you're not kidding." 

Frustration at things backfiring showed in Daria's eyes. "I should have said, 'I don't need tutoring to write like her. Just some big crayons.'" 

John almost reached out for her hand, stopped only by Principal. Li's hands-off policy. "Ouch." 

Daria growled, "I'm not letting it get to me." 

John watched her, thinking. _Right, and Trent's deed for a private island in the Everglades is worth something._

Behind them, both heard Quinn say, "Look everyone! I wrote another poem while I was eating my fries." 

After a brief tussle, Jeffy said, "My turn to read! 'The greasy fry, it cannot lie. Its truth is written on your thighs.'" 

Joey said, "Wow. That's amazing." 

Jamie sniffed. "Beautiful." 

Jeffy added, "Genius." 

After Quinn said, "I know!" Daria closed her eyes and slumped down. 

John leaned closer to her and whispered, "Okay, that was just plain bad."

* * *

"Fan mail." Daria dragged more than carried her backpack down the hall to her locker. "She's already getting fan mail." 

Freshly showered after track practice, John had joined her as she left the _Lowdown_ staff room. He said, "She's getting attention like you expected." 

Daria stopped at her locker and opened it. "Not like I expected. It only increased her popularity." 

"Maybe we should've planned on that. She is the Teflon Donna." 

"Yeah, right." Daria tossed books into her locker and dropped her head on top of them. "Do me a favor?" 

"What?" 

"Kick me in the ass."

* * *

"To top it all off, she had a beret and an ankh," Daria said, lying on her back sideways on John's bed with her hair falling to the floor beneath. "All of it as black as my mood." 

After dipping his fingertips in acrylic paint, John streaked them across his canvas. "Did you bother to tell her that it was the way deep people dressed…forty years ago?" 

"I should've. Damn, I was hoping this would let her know how I'm treated. But no, she gets to be the brain with bouncy hair." 

"We already knew popular people are held to different standards." 

"It's imaginative, but her writing needs a lot of help. But, nobody seems to see that. You have a good idea of what I'm feeling." 

John streaked more paint onto the canvas. "Yeah, about how I felt when Brittany won that poster contest." 

Daria rolled over and sat up. "Okay, that was worse. Brittany had no talent at all. We need to stop this 'Quinn the Brain' phase…but I don't want to totally discourage her either." 

John slid a towel off his shoulder and wiped the paint from his fingers. "So what are we going to do?" 

"I've got an idea, but I don't know if I'm desperate enough yet."

* * *

After gym class, John was at his locker when Quinn, attractively dressed in all black, stopped beside him. "Can I ask you something?" 

John shrugged as he balanced a stack of books while pulling one from the bottom. "Sure, go ahead." 

"You don't think I'm a brain, do you?" 

"Well, not like your sister." 

"Me, either. I mean, I really like the way this is getting to her, but I'm starting to feel like a phony." 

John cocked an eyebrow. "Starting?" 

"So I wrote a stupid essay!" Quinn inquired, "What's everyone making such a big deal about?" 

John thought for a moment. "You surprised them. When nobody expects much from you, they get excited when..." 

Quinn glared angrily at him. "What do you mean, nobody expects much from me? I'll show them!" She spun and rapidly walked away. 

John scratched his head. "Okay, that could've gone better." 

He popped the book into his backpack and closed the locker door before heading over to catch Daria on the way to Economics class. On the way, he started to notice that a lot of girls were also dressing all in black. 

When he caught up with Daria, she was talking to another girl. "Um…I got them at the S-Mart out by the interstate." 

The girl asked, "Do they still carry them?" 

Daria apologetically shrugged. "I don't know, I haven't looked lately." 

The girl smiled. "That's okay, I'll give it a try anyway, thanks." 

John watched her leave and then said to Daria, "What was that?" 

Looking slightly vacant, Daria watched the departing girl. "She wanted to know where I bought my black skirts." 

"That was weird." 

Daria faced him. "That's just the start. The Fashion Troopers came up to me today and mumbled and bumbled around before leaving. I wasn't quite sure of what was up until Jamie, Joey and Jeffy came up to me, pleading for me to bring Quinn back." 

"That is getting a little creepy." 

Daria sighed. "I'm desperate enough."

* * *

"Mom?" Daria said as she approached Helen in the kitchen. "Can I borrow one of the cards?" 

She looked cautiously at Daria. "What for?" 

"You see, I found out about this big sale at Cashman's and thought that maybe I should expand my wardrobe a bit." 

Lawyerlike, Helen asked, "Daria, what do you really want the card for?" 

On the edge of his vision, John could see Quinn seated on one of the sofas, listening. 

Daria was firm. "To buy some more clothes. Okay, the Cashman's line was an attention getter. You have to admit it worked." 

Helen folded her arms. "True, though it didn't do much for your credibility." 

"Nothing drastic, but I would like to get a few new options to wear. I thought you'd be excited." 

"Daria, I am, it's just so sudden. And well, since you so rarely ask for the card like this, I have to wonder." Helen's face flushed with abrupt surprise. "Oh my God!" 

"Mom?" 

She reached for Daria's stomach. "Sweetie, how are you doing? Feeling okay?" 

"I'm not pregnant." 

That startled John as he realized where the conversation had drifted and that Helen was eying him. 

Daria's voice became firm. "Absolutely not pregnant." 

Helen tapped her foot and peered back at Daria. "Perhaps we need to get you tested." 

Daria shook her head. "The prerequisite events for that have not happened. I give you my word on that." 

Helen's anxiety eased modestly. "All right. But why do you want the card?" 

"To buy a few more things to wear. Mom, Quinn goes on shopping sprees all the time." 

Helen looked over a Quinn. "There is that." 

John said, "Isn't that a double standard?" 

Helen shifted to him. "You have a point, but this feels too much like you have something else up your sleeve." She turned to Daria. "I haven't forgotten as much of my teenage years as you might think. I insist that somebody go along with you." 

A brief, hard glare slipped past Daria before she sighed and said. "I'll assume that's not negotiable." 

"Correct." 

Daria sighed again and leaned against the counter. "Don't know who I could ask. Jodie's at a tennis match this afternoon." 

John quickly shifted his eyes to check on Quinn, who was plainly trying not to say anything. Daria followed his look. "If I want to go today, it looks like Quinn's my only choice. I might be able to go a couple hours without killing her." 

Helen looked at Quinn, who'd turned upon hearing her name. Helen said, "I'm still keeping an eye on her after she went shopping instead of to that concert." Helen grinned as she got an idea. "Two heads are better than one: I'll go too! Tomorrow's Saturday. We'll do it then and make a family bonding session out of it." 

Daria dropped her head. "I better stop before I get in any deeper. It's a deal." 

Quinn rushed over. "This is going to be great." 

John asked, "What about Jake?" 

Helen sighed. "He can sleep in late. It'll be safer that way."

* * *

John held the door while Daria climbed into the back seat of Helen's SUV the next morning. He quietly said, "I'm impressed by the way you played your mom like Jimi Hendrix played a guitar." 

Daria gave him a quick smile. "But it's going to cost us in more spot checks to see what we're doing." She held his hand. "Even though using her paranoia to distract her served its purpose, I can't entirely blame Mom for being paranoid. Our situation has its temptations." 

Thinking of the gentle curves he knew hid under her bulky jacket, John held back a sigh and nodded in agreement. 

As Helen and Quinn got near the truck, Daria squeezed his hand. "No matter how boring things get, please stay close. I don't like two-to-one odds and this is going to be a real balancing act." 

Quinn swung into the front passenger seat and turned to face them. "This is going to be so great. Daria, I'm glad you finally came to your senses."

* * *

"God, Daria. You look like a Halloween ad," Quinn whined as Daria stepped from a dressing room wearing a smooth, black skirt that accented her hips, along with an orange blouse. "Okay, the skirt works, but that top, eww." 

Daria put her hands on her hips in annoyance. "Well then, what do you suggest?" 

"Hold on." Quinn dashed to a rack and returned with a green, long-sleeved blouse. "We'll work with the colors you're happy with. Try this."

* * *

The dressing room door cracked open and a black baby t-shirt flew out, with Daria calling, "No way." 

Helen picked up the diminutive garment, looked at John, and then scowled at Quinn. She shrugged and said, "But she'd look so cute in it."

* * *

Keeping his hand hidden from view, John pinched his thigh as hard as he could to keep awake. Helen sat next to him and said, "This would be a little easier if Daria would consider some different shoes instead of those boots." 

Conspiratorially, he whispered, "You know she's generally opposed to exercise. Wearing those heavy boots while walking to and from school help just that much more at keeping her physically fit. It's a fair tradeoff, I think." _And I like how her legs look in them._

Helen sighed. "I suppose that makes sense. At least Quinn's been able to work around them." 

Daria stepped out again, wearing jeans, khaki shirt and a green vest. Quinn put on hand on her hip. "What did I tell you?" 

Daria nodded. "You're right, it is comfortable." 

Quinn clasped her hands together. "Great! Now we need to find you something really nice to wear." She turned and winked. "Like for a real date with John." 

Daria faintly blushed and Helen tensed. 

"Jeez, Daria. You should have at least one thing to look good in." Quinn smirked at Daria's blush, but was disturbed by Helen's unease. With hands on her hips and oddly flustered, Quinn turned to face her. "Mo-om! How often have they gone out on a date?" 

Helen tried to be positive. "A few times." 

"Yeah, only a few. You have them scared to go out on hardly any dates or to even hold hands in the house!" 

"Quinn, you must realize that they are in a very unusual situation. Young people can have these feelings and not think clearly…" 

Quinn stamped her foot. "They're the best-behaved couple at school! Even if they live in the same house; nobody believes that they…you know. Brr." 

John, Daria, and Helen all stared at Quinn. 

"I mean, if it was anybody else, everybody would think they were…eww, but not them. Yeah, they're geeks, but they're cute and a lot of people look up to them." 

Helen's hand went to her mouth. "Oh." 

"Well, you three talk it over, I think I saw the perfect thing for Daria over here. Be right back." 

Quinn hurried to another part of the store. 

Uncertain, Helen muttered, "Is that true?" 

Daria sat on the other side of her mother. "We are very careful. Mom, I haven't forgotten what you first told me about how things can get out of hand." 

John said, "We know it's not fair that we have to be held to higher standards, but we understand why. Mrs. Morgendorffer, my sister Summer had her first kid when she was seventeen. I never want to do that to Daria." 

"But Mom, if we hold hands or kiss from time to time, could you and Dad please not freak out?" 

"Relaxing a little more if we want to go out to a movie would help," John included. 

"I'll take them under consideration, but don't even think about latching the doors to your rooms if both of you are in it." 

Daria and John said, "Done." 

Quinn returned with a black dress, a deep green sash and a pair of black, soft leather dress boots. "Try these." 

Daria took them and paused. "I said, no new shoes." 

Quinn pointed to Daria's regular boots and fired back, "Daria, reality check. Those boots don't go with any formal wear." She put the new boots in front of Daria. "I got a pair without heels because I know you won't wear them otherwise." 

Daria muttered and started to the dressing room. "I'll try, but this is the last batch. I've hit my shopping limit for the decade." 

Several minutes later, Daria called, "Quinn, come here." 

For several more minutes after Quinn went in, their voices were faintly heard. Finally, Quinn appeared, pulling Daria out. 

Helen's surprised inhale barely registered with John. His attention was on Daria. 

The black, sleeveless dress had a high v-neck and a smooth, close fit that accented her subtle curves. The green sash was tied around her waist with the bow to the left so the loose ends followed the shape of her hip and thigh. The narrow, ankle-length skirt was slit to knee level on the right side, showing one of the soft boots. Overall, relatively modest but still highly enticing. 

Noticing John stunned and speechless, Quinn smirked and said, "See, Daria, it rocks."

* * *

Finally home, John placed the shopping bags on Daria's bed while she sat at her desk. She pushed her hair back with her hand and breathed deeply. "Okay, that had a few unanticipated bonuses, and I never thought she'd try something like that last dress, but I think the stage is set." 

John sat on the bed and glanced at the folded dress inside. "I know you're not comfortable with people saying these things, but you are very pretty in that dress." 

Daria shyly looked at the floor. "Thanks. I'm learning to be more comfortable with things like that from you." 

"And, you get to wear it tonight." 

"I've wanted to see a stage version of _Les Misérables_ for a long time. Even if it's a student production at Lawndale State. I guess it's not too high a price to pay…" 

John said, "Speaking of prices, I certainly didn't plan on getting hauled someplace to buy a suit." 

"We wouldn't want any double standards, would we?" 

"No." John rubbed his chin. "You know, there was something else interesting I noticed today." 

"Hmm?" 

"Every combination you picked out had one item that looked very good, and others to give Quinn something to fix. Almost as if you knew exactly what would and wouldn't look right." 

Daria gave him wry grin. "Just because I choose not to use certain knowledge, doesn't mean I don't possess it." 

John said, "I'm listening." 

"It's kind of curious that nobody's ever asked what I did on the school newspaper in Highland. Because I was the only one with paired X chromosomes on the staff, I was stuck as fashion editor. It gave me the tools to look just good enough for Quinn to want to help me, and to also make her feel threatened about her looks." 

"Fashion editor? That explains a few things." He noticed the time on Daria's alarm clock. "If we're going to make the play, we better get ready." 

John got up and started to leave. When he opened the door, there was Quinn, dressed to kill for a date and about to knock. 

Daria crossed her arms. "I see the mime getup is gone." 

John inwardly smiled. _Damn, Daria. It worked like a charm._

Quinn waved her hand. "Oh, that intellectual look was so yesterday." 

Daria leaned against the back of her chair. "So, it looks like the days of 'Brains' Morgendorffer are over." 

Quinn laughed. "Yeah, I'll leave that to you. You're much better at it." 

"Now that you've shown you can do it, I'm not inclined to write essays for you." 

Quinn's face started to turn red with anger. 

Daria rose from her chair. "But, if you want a little editorial review before you turn something in…" 

Quinn nodded. "Deal. And I'll be around if you want to improve your wardrobe any more. Anyway, I gotta go, enjoy your date. Though if you're going to see a French play, you really should have dinner at Chez Pierre." 

Daria started to close the door. "I'll pass. For some reason, I prefer a French restaurant that uses proper French on the menu. " 

"Whatever." 

"Besides, Mom's driving us over and picking us up after. We won't have time for a fancy dinner." 

"Oh, yeah. Later." Quinn went back to her room. 

John hugged Daria. "Looks like it worked; she's back to her normal self and we got a nice side benefit." 

Daria hugged him back. "And Quinn will be trying a little harder academically, with a few nudges from us." 

"So, we won." 

"I'm on top of the world." 

"See you downstairs." John left and started down the hall to his room. 

He saw Quinn leaving her room and said, "If you don't mind me saying, I'm a little surprised at all the effort you put into making Daria look good today." 

Quinn held her hands out to show her figure. "Duh. She's my sister. Daria's always looked good, she just never showed it. But now that she has a reason to, I'll help her." 

"Um, thanks. That is real nice of you." 

Quinn winked at John. "If you two are happy, then she's out of circulation. I want to keep it that way."

* * *

Dialog from _Quinn the Brain_ by Rachel Lipman 

A polite nod to Kara Wild for her Driven Wild Universe and the Mathletic team. 

And a nod to DJW's J-Men. I know he'll get even. 

Thanks to Ipswichfan, Mr. Orange and Kristen Bealer for beta reading.   



	11. A Mirror of Future Fears

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the eleventh John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**A Mirror of Future Fears**

Daria Morgendorffer shook her head as she neared the front door of her home. "I don't think you've thought this through. A thousand Elvis impersonators in one place could collapse into a black hole."

Holding her hand as he walked beside, John Lane said, "But then, nobody could say my art didn't make a mark on the world."

Daria opened the door and they could hear her mother say, "Rita, that's so wonderful. I still can't believe Erin's getting married."

Daria said, "Oh, no. This is going to be bad."

"What?"

"Mom's talking to Aunt Rita."

"I've seen my Uncle Max on a bender, can't be much worse."

Daria shook her head and continued into the house. "Don't bet on it."

In the kitchen, Helen scribbled on a notepad as she talked on the telephone. "There's a branch here in town; they won't have any problems…Don't worry, Rita, it's not an issue...That's right…I assume Mother's paying for this…Oh, no…not at all."

They skirted around Helen and stopped by Daria's father. Jake carefully said, "Your cousin Erin is getting married."

Daria said, "We heard." To John, she added, "Rita's only child, about Trent's age."

Jake leaned between them. "It's gonna hit the fan this time."

"Okay, I'll let everyone know…Bye." Helen turned off the phone and sat at the table with them. "Well, Rita's precious Erin is getting married." Dropping in clear resentment, she continued by saying, "At the Windsor Hills Resort in Leeville."

Jake whistled and exclaimed. "That'll…Rita's not paying for this, is she?"

Helen growled, "No, Mother is." She shifted to a mock-sweet voice. "Nothing but the best for her favorite granddaughter."

John whispered to Daria, "This is where it starts to get bad, right?"

Daria replied, "Oh, Mom's just getting started."

Dreamily, Jake mused, "Windsor Hills' legendary thirteenth hole. I can hardly wait."

"Forget it, we're going to a wedding." Helen glared fire at her husband. "No golf."

Quinn walked to the edge of the kitchen, listening.

Daria sat back in her chair. "Too bad we're going to miss it."

In order, Helen locked her eyes on each of the teens. "You're not getting off that easily. I made sure you and Quinn are going to be bridesmaids, and John, a groomsman.

Shocked, Daria blurted, "You didn't."

Grinning with excitement, Quinn said, "What do the dresses look like? Will I need to dye my hair?"

John frowned and eyed the others with concern. "Why is this sounding a lot more complicated than one of Wind's weddings?"

* * *

"What do you mean, I can't wear that new suit?" John asked. "Isn't that one of the reasons I got stuck with that thing?"

He stood by his closet, holding up a suit on a hanger.

Daria shook her head. "Sorry. That's part of life. I get to suffer and so do you. At least you only have to rent your tux."

"We never did anything like this for Wind or Summer's weddings."

"You probably wore jeans."

"The ones without holes in them."

"Don't complain. You're still coming out ahead in the deal."

* * *

"What a waste of a perfectly good afternoon," John griped as he and Daria walked along a downtown sidewalk.

Daria grumbled, "Fate hates us. Strong-arming us into a wedding party."

"I mean, what are we supposed to do? Stand around like statues?"

"That's about it. Here we are."

They stopped for a moment in front of the bridal shop before going in. Mannequins in gowns sprouted up throughout the store. A slightly elderly saleslady approached from around the sales counter.

She said, "I'm sorry, we only do weddings, not funerals."

"This could be both," Daria said in return.

"You don't have to get married, do you?" The saleslady asked. "Maternity gowns require a special fit."

Daria sighed in frustration. "I've been sentenced to be a bridesmaid in the Chambers-Danielson wedding."

The saleslady walked back to the computer at the sales counter and started to search. "Umm-hmm. Ah, here it is. You'll need to be fitted. If that's possible."

* * *

Bored, John sat in a chair outside the fitting room while Daria was inside with the saleslady. He idly flipped through a bridal magazine and muttered, "If they're going to make you wait out here, they should at least have something as interesting to read as in a doctor's waiting room."

A squeaky voice said, "John?"

He looked up to see Brittany Taylor and Jodie Landon entering the store.

At the same time, he and Brittany said, "What are you doing here?"

John said, "You'd never believe me if I said I was trolling for dates."

"We're modeling at the school's bridal expo," Brittany explained.

After a moment, Jodie added, "It's an extracurricular activity fundraiser."

John smirked. "Sounds like some interesting extracurricular activities?"

Brittany asked, "What about you?"

"I'm a cross-dresser. Thought I'd try on something a little more formal than usual."

Brittany stared at him, unsure. "Um…okay?"

Daria crying, "Ouch!" came from the fitting room.

Jodie smiled. "That sounded like Daria. So what's…?"

Brittany exclaimed, "You two are getting married? Wow!"

"No, Brittany," John said and stood up. "Daria's cousin is getting married."

"You're marrying her cousin!" She slapped John on the face. "You…you…"

Jodie grabbed Brittany's arm before she could hit John again. "Brittany, he didn't say he was marrying Daria's cousin."

John rubbed his jaw and moved it back and forth to make sure it was working before saying, "She's a bridesmaid. When we're done here, I get to be fitted for a monkey suit to be a groomsman."

"Oh. Um, I'm sorry," Brittany said.

"Nothing I won't survive."

"What in the hell are you doing!" Quinn shrieked from inside the fitting room.

John, Brittany and Jodie all turned to look at the door. John muttered, "When did she get here?"

Quinn went on with her outburst, "I've got to be seen with her! Not to mention photographed! Daria, you can't go out with the dress fitted like that!"

"Let me guess," Jodie leaned over and said to John, "Quinn's a bridesmaid, too."

* * *

John squinted at the directions taped to the mirror and awkwardly pulled a cloth end through a loop to complete the bowtie's knot. "Ugh. Stupid, miserable…"

"Trade ya," Daria said from the room door.

Turning, he saw she was in a well-fitted, pale blue, off-the-shoulder gown. A white accent ribbon rose up from the sides to a bow just below the neckline and matched a triple string of pearls around her neck.

_Wow_, he thought before saying, "I don't think it would do a thing for me."

"Probably not." She squirmed her torso inside the dress to try to get comfortable. "And I've got to spend the next several hours in it."

"Uh…if it helps, you do look nice in it."

Daria stopped and smiled. "Thanks. Though I have Quinn to thank for it fitting right."

"She was insistent. Jodie and Brittany were very amused."

"Oh, yeah. I loved finding out we had an audience for that."

* * *

Behind the wheel of his Lexus, Jake complained, "I wish you'd let me bring my golf clubs."

Helen snapped. "This is my family; we're not here to have fun."

He asked, "Who's Rita with nowadays, anyway?"

"I don't know. She dumped the sculptor. No offense, John."

"None taken," John said, jammed into the backseat between Daria and Quinn.

"And then there was Roger's horrible accident. Oh, yeah, Mother said Bruno was sentenced to fifteen to thirty."

Jake shook his head. "Your sister sure has found some winners."

The car rounded a corner and entered a long driveway leading to a large, red-brick colonial-style resort.

"Wow!" Quinn said in wonder.

John leaned against Daria and said, "Well, Scarlett, how does it feel to return to Tara?"

Daria leaned back against him. "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."

Jake also watched in wonder. "This will cost your mother a fortune!"

Helen sat with her arms folded. "Well, what else should she spend her money on? Something boring, like college funds for her other grandchildren?"

Jake laughed, but it faded. "Dammit!"

Helen looked over her shoulder. "I just keep telling myself that Erin hasn't had the advantages you kids have."

John shrugged. "Hey, I'll take it."

* * *

Jake stopped the car in front of the valet parking. He stepped out and handed his keys to the attendant, saying, "This is an expensive vehicle. Be careful with it."

Everyone else stepped out and the attendant sat down, muttering, "Yeah, right," before driving off a little too fast.

A blond woman in a tan and white dress with a wide sun hat waited by the door. The family resemblance to Helen was unmistakable. She said, "Helen!" and opened her arms.

Helen said, "Rita!" The sisters held hands and stiffly leaned toward each other.

Helen stepped aside and Rita said, "How are you, Jake?"

Jake walked up and said, "Well, I'm not that bad..."

Rita cut him off. "Oh, the girls look lovely. And the young man must be John. Nice to meet you."

John nodded. "Hi."

"I'm sorry about the rehearsal dinner, Rita," Helen said. "I had meetings all yesterday afternoon, and by the time I got home..."

Rita motioned through the glass doors and a balding man stepped out. Rita said, "Everyone, this is Paul, my beau."

He said, "Hello."

Jake said in surprise, "Paul Myerson?"

"Jake?" Paul explained to Rita, "Jake and I were in Boy Scouts together." He asked Jake, "Did you bring your clubs?"

Jake grumbled, "No."

Daria whispered to John, "Real winners?"

John chuckled.

A red, two-seat sports car rolled to a quick stop. Moments later, a wavy haired brunette wearing black and purple stepped out of the car.

"Okay, who's that?" John asked.

Daria blinked and half-asked, "Aunt Amy?"

Amy Barksdale handed her keys to the attendant and said, "I don't mind a few dents, but change the radio station and you're a dead man."

Rita walked over to the new arrival. "How delightful you made it, Amy. I thought you weren't coming."

Amy said, "I wasn't, but I thought if you two could put aside years of bitterness and resentment, then so can I...for a day."

"Oh, Amy, why do you say such ridiculous things?" Helen asked.

Amy smirked. "Out loud?" She walked between her sisters and said, "So, Jake. You're still with Helen, huh? Shows remarkable fortitude." She turned to Paul. "And Roger. How's the skydiving going?"

John whispered to Daria, "Now that's a Lane-style gaff if I ever heard one."

Helen cleared her throat. "Um, Amy, Roger passed away. This is Paul."

Amy was nonplussed. "Oh, sorry. Paul, how do you do?"

Paul asked, "Who's Roger?"

Quinn replied, "He fell onto a cow."

"Ick!" Paul looked slightly ill.

Daria added, "And he was one of the lucky ones."

"When do I get to hear about the unlucky ones?" John said with a grin.

Helen chided, "Children."

Amy looked at John. "Helen, I know it's been a while, but I'm reasonably certain you never had twins or a third pregnancy. Where'd the spare kid come from?"

"Amy, this is John." Helen put a hand on his shoulder. "Jake and I are his guardians."

Quinn moved close to Amy. "And Daria's live-in boyfriend."

Helen sharply said, "Quinn!"

Amy raised an eyebrow at Daria's bright blush. "So, Daria. Grabbing 'em while they're young?"

John held out his hand. "Hi. Trust me, it's weirder than it sounds, but we…"

Amy shook his hand and said, "Don't ask, don't tell. But I'll warn you, kidding is fair game. Anyway, John, Daria, I like your attitudes."

Rita tapped Amy's shoulder. "I hope we can find someplace to seat you."

Amy started toward the door. "I'm sure we can find something. A pillow on the floor will be sufficient."

After Rita and Paul followed Amy inside, Helen said, "I need a drink."

Hearing Jake's chuckles, she said, "Why are you laughing?"

Following them in, John said, "Yep, you do have a weird family."

Daria rolled her eyes. "And they're still playing nice."

Distant thunder sounded just before the door closed.

* * *

They passed through the lobby of the resort and beyond to a large garden. The wedding party and guests were gathered under a large pavilion. Daria pointed to three women, one blonde, one short-haired brunette and a second brunette with a pony tail in bridesmaid dresses.

"They might have a clue of where we're supposed to go."

They could hear the blonde say in a southern accent, "Oh, don't you see? A little rain won't spoil the happiest day of Brian and Erin's life. It may rain out there, but in here, the sun will be shining."

"We are now entering hell," Daria said. "Please keep your hands and elbows inside the car."

The same bridesmaid said, "You must be Erin's cousins, and that poor boy your parents took in. What happened?"

Daria answered, "John's in the witness protection program. Mom and Dad took him in after his family was killed by art smugglers."

The two other bridesmaids stepped back once. The blonde looked uneasy, but kept up a brave front. "The rehearsal dinner was so much fun; too bad you missed it. Now Daria, John will be your escort. Quinn, let me introduce you to yours."

She walked Quinn over to an awkwardly tall young man with curly brown hair piled high on his head. "Quinn, this is Luhrman. Luhrman, this is Quinn."

Luhrman slowly said, "How do you do, Quinn."

"Oh. Um, hi." Quinn shuffled her feet. "Could you please get me a soda with just a tiny slice of lemon?"

He shrugged. "I suppose."

"Hmm." John nudged Daria and pointed to Quinn. "She doesn't look too happy."

"But you noticed he's still getting her a soda."

* * *

Adjacent to the pavilion, numerous wooden folding chairs faced a white gazebo. The minister stood upon the steps while the bride and groom stood before him. Along Erin's side, the bridesmaids, led by the blonde maid of honor, were lined up with Daria at the back. Along the groom's side, the groomsmen were similarly lined up, with John also at the back of the line.

While the minister droned on, John thought, _How long is this going to take? This must be an endurance test to see if the bride and groom can tolerate being close to each other for extended periods of time._

A chuckle from Daria caught his attention, followed by a whispered, "It was her."

On the edge of his vision, John noticed Amy innocently looking upward. She saw him looking and shrugged just as Helen reached behind Jake and tapped her shoulder, tersely saying in a low voice, "Amy!"

* * *

Seated near one end of the wedding party table, John's stomach growled as he stared at his emptied plate. _That wasn't enough to feed a hamster. And what was that cake frosting made out of? Lard?_

Daria fought back a yawn. "I don't know if I can take much more of this excitement."

"What else is there to do?"

Cheery, Quinn chimed in from his other side, "Oh, there's still the first dance…and throwing the bouquet…and throwing the garter…and the big exit…"

Luhrman mumbled something incomprehensible.

Quinn asked him, "What did you say?"

"Just some idle chitchat," he said without enthusiasm. "Would you like another soda?"

"I think I need to use the restroom," Quinn said and stood before rapidly heading away.

He shrugged. "Or perhaps I'll drink a bottle of drain cleaner." After seeing Daria and John's stare, he added, "Please be assured that my remark was intended in jest and not as an indication of any type of self-destructive behavior."

Daria said, "You're not a local, are you?"

"So, how did you get recruited into this gig?" John asked.

"I'm still trying to figure that out. Maybe I did something very bad in a previous life."

Both grinning, the newlyweds came over to the table. Erin said, "Daria, there you are! I can't believe I didn't get to see you before the wedding!"

Daria plainly said, "It was a lovely ceremony."

"And you must be John! How are you?"

He nodded. "I'm fine."

Erin smiled even wider. "And this is Brian. Isn't he marvelous? He works for the government." In a whisper added, "Intelligence."

Half-annoyed, Brian said, "Erin!"

"I know, I know, I'm not supposed to say anything," she said to placate Brian. To Daria, she said, "But isn't it exciting?"

"If our national security is compromised, you can bet there's a woman at the bottom of it," Brian said with a hint of tiredness.

Erin playfully pushed him. "Oh, you."

Daria rolled her eyes. "Oh, God." Under the table, she tugged on John's hand. "I'm going to the..."

Brian completed the sentence, saying, "…little girl's room?"

"Yeah, the little girl's room." She got up and started to walk away. "I promise not to pass on any of the gory details."

John said, "I'll take the chance to go get us some fresh drinks. Nice to meet you."

As John hurried away, he heard Luhrman say, "I'm sorry, what did you say you do? I thought I heard intelligence, but that can't be right."

Nearing the bar, John noticed Jake telling Paul, "Yeah, you mentioned. So, how'd you meet Rita?"

Paul said, "Well, you know, we both love the sea. I have a sailboat."

Jokingly, Jake said, "And she's a little dingy!" Calming, he then said, "I'm kidding, of course."

John said to the bartender, "Two colas."

Paul said conspiratorially, "Well, let's face it. Rita's a little flighty, of course, but she's a tiger in the bedroom."

The bartender opened two soda cans and poured them into glasses. "At least you're not trying to scam me into serving you something I shouldn't."

Jake looked briefly at Helen seated at the end of the bar and said, "Yeah, well, I guess it runs in the family."

Paul laughed. "So, Brian's in for a fun time tonight!"

Jake started to laugh and suddenly stopped, his eyes growing huge.

John rubbed his face with both hands. "Oh, jeez. Here we go again."

"What?" The bartender asked.

"Daria!" Jake looked around the room. "Where's Daria?"

"I better head this off before he blows another vein." John said to the bartender, "Can I leave these here for a minute?"

He shrugged. "Hey, old lady Barksdale's paying for it. If they're not here, I'll pour you more."

"Thanks."

John went to Jake. He saw John and grabbed his shoulders, shouting, "Where's Daria?"

"The restroom, Mr. Morgendorffer."

"Where…where have you two been?"

John pointed to the head table. "Sitting over there."

"Where were you before that!"

"With the rest of the wedding party, standing like a bunch of statues."

"Then you haven't….?"

"No."

"Oh!" Jake calmed. "Oh. Um, sorry, John."

"Why don't you go grab another drink and I'll go get Daria. We can talk then."

"Yeah, another drink. That might be a good idea."

Helen's voice called out over the crowd noise, "Waiter! More wine, please."

"Or, you can go check on Mrs. Morgendorffer."

"Maybe you're right."

John hurried to grab the sodas, muttering, "I hope we can stay the night. They're both too ripped to drive home."

* * *

John was marginally surprised to see Daria and Amy exit the restroom together. He said to them, "Should I be worried?"

Amy smiled. "Don't worry, kid. The sarcasm is strong in you, too."

"Daria, be careful. Your Dad's gone paranoid about us again."

Daria sagged. "Crap. What set him off?"

"Talking with your Aunt Rita's boyfriend."

Amy rubbed her forehead. "Let me guess, they started comparing notes."

John made a queasy face. "Yeah."

Amy sighed. "Boys and their toys."

Daria frowned, "Thanks for that wonderful thought."

"John," Amy said. "Where's Jake at now?"

"Daria's Mom was already tying one on pretty good; I directed him that way."

"Look, I'll go play crazy sister and keep them distracted. Knowing Jake, that may be enough to get him to forget."

"Thanks," Daria told her.

John handed Daria her drink. "Yeah, thanks Amy."

Amy waved them back to their table. "I'll catch up with you later."

She watched John and Daria go back to the table with a sly smile. "I notice he still got you a soda." Amy scanned the bar and located her sister and Jake. "Oooh. Helen's on a roll. I may not have to do much."

* * *

Later at the table, Daria told the blonde maid of honor, "To be honest, Daphne, we barely have time for anything but the school paper and track, what with our mission and all."

"Oh? What do you do?" Daphne asked.

John said, "We're trying to track down my parent's killers."

Rita walked over to the table. "Come on, girls. It's time to catch the bouquet."

The other bridesmaids eagerly moved to the center of the room while Daria remained seated. Rita said, "You too, Daria."

"Only under protest," Daria said as she got up.

Rita checked around. "Where's Quinn?"

Daria pointed a thumb at the passage to the restrooms. "Last I saw, the minister was hitting on her."

Rita's face pinched in frustration. "Dammit! Sean promised he was going to behave today." She spun around and stomped over to where Daria had indicated.

"Another ex-boyfriend of hers?" John asked.

"Who knows. Let's hope this is over soon." Daria joined the rest of the single girls and women gathered together.

Not long after, Quinn appeared looking over her shoulder and stopped next to Daria. "Boy is Rita mad."

"You really shouldn't encourage older guys like that. You could get into real trouble," Daria said.

"Like I would be interested in someone like him? I was only listening and waiting for Luhrman to come looking for me."

"Quinn, Luhrman hasn't moved from his chair. I don't think he's that impressed with you."

"Not impressed? How could he…"

"God, I really hate this part," Amy grumbled. She stood behind Daria and Quinn and placed a hand on each girl's shoulder. "Do you understand the concept of human shields?"

Daria pivoted her head to half-face Amy. "We've just been volunteered, haven't we?"

"Precisely."

Quinn asked, "Don't you want to catch it, Aunt Amy?"

"Not particularly. It would only get Mother, Rita and Helen restarted…and I don't want to go there."

Erin turned her back on the group. "Ready?"

The other bridesmaids and several others shouted, "Ready!"

"Here goes." Erin tossed the bouquet over her shoulder toward the crowd. Despite high heels and fancy dresses, many of the women jumped and clawed over each other for the flying flowers. Amy gently pulled Quinn and Daria away from the slower ones ricocheting off the mass of bodies and stumbling back.

In the center, Daphne held the prize up tightly clenched in her fist. "Yes!" Several other girls glared at her.

Daria looked at a woman sitting on the floor at her feet. "Now wasn't that a dignified display of ladylike charms."

Rita shooed them with her hands. "Okay, okay. Time for the garter. Gentlemen, please."

"Oh, boy," Luhrman said to John. "Time to be targets for elastic-propelled lingerie."

Daria, Quinn and Amy walked over. Amy pointed a thumb over her shoulder. "Move it guys. This is equal opportunity embarrassment."

Unenthused, John followed Luhrman over to the group of young men facing where Erin was seated on a folding chair. Brian knelt in front of Erin and gave the gathered men a crooked grin. He rolled Erin's skirt up to her knee and reached in, much farther than a garter would normally be worn.

Erin blushed and said, "Brian!" in a harsh whisper.

He grinned back and slid the garter down her leg. He stood and twirled it around his finger. "Who's the next victim?"

He turned his back to the men and stretched the garter back like a slingshot. Brian released the band and it flew in an uneven arc toward the open space that had appeared as guys stepped aside. John watched as it ignominiously landed on the floor near his feet.

The best man slapped John on the back, causing him to stumble forward. The best man said, "Dude, you're the closest."

"Huh?"

Another groomsman said, "If nobody's dumb enough to catch the garter, it goes to who it hits or lands closest to." He tapped John's chest. "Tag, you're it."

The best man and his friends laughed loudly and headed for the bar. John reached down and picked up the garter. "Now what?"

"Be glad he didn't follow one of the older customs of removing it with his teeth." Luhrman said in a deadpan.

* * *

"So, it turns out that you could go through training and be fully qualified in three months," Daria said with a straight face, "Now I'm just waiting for my green beret."

The other bridesmaids watched her, wide-eyed. Daphne said, "Wow. Is that true?"

Quinn struggled to conceal a smile and hid behind her soda glass so the others wouldn't see her. John couldn't contain his amusement and chuckled. The three girls stared at him.

Daria sighed and said, "No, it's not true. We made it up. John's parents are still alive…"

"Though not necessarily on this planet," John slipped in. "We're not trained commandos, and we never met the Prince of Atlantis."

The three young women whispered among themselves in careful consultation before the short-haired brunette said, "We decided we'd better not talk to you two anymore."

In mock surprise, Daria said, "What?"

The pony-tailed brunette said, "We like you, but..."

Daphne said, "Ya'll have problems."

After they were gone, Quinn broke out in laughter. When she finally stopped, Quinn had to wipe her eyes. "Daria, that was freakin' hilarious. How long did it take you to write that?"

Daria off-handedly said, "I made it up as I went along, using John and Luhrman's embellishments."

"You're kidding!"

John smirked. "No, Quinn. Daria's good at telling a story on the run. I've almost ruined a couple paintings because I was laughing so hard at what she made up about them."

"I've done it for a long time," Daria explained. "Lots of practice."

"It sounds like you kids are enjoying yourselves way too much," Amy told the teens. "This is a Barksdale wedding. Nobody's here to have fun."

John said, "Daria, didn't your mother say something like that in the car?"

* * *

"Quinn," Daria asked, "You've actually sat with us for the last half-hour. What's going on?"

Quinn smiled. "Can't I just hang out with my…sister, for a while?"

"From the tone of Daria's voice," Amy said, "That sounds as likely as me hanging out with one of my sisters."

John said, "I'm a little surprised you didn't leave with Daphne and her crew."

Quinn stared at him. "Jo-hn! They have to be as dim as Kevin Thompson to fall for Daria's story."

"You and Luhrman haven't exactly hit it off," Daria observed. "So why aren't you targeting the other groomsmen?"

Quinn pointed to the bar, where the best man and the other two groomsmen were barely succeeding at staying on their stools. "They're doing tequila shots. Pretty soon, they're going to…eww. This is a pretty dress and I want to keep it that way."

Daria nodded. "So, you're stuck with us. What if your friends find out?"

"Like, who's going to tell them?"

"She has a point," John said. "They'd never believe us."

Luhrman slowly sipped from his drink and then said, ""I'm sure we could find somebody to take photos."

A loud slap resonated through the hall and everyone looked in that direction. Amy quietly said, "And so it begins."

The minister stumbled backward into the room with Helen stalking after him, furious. "One word out of you and it'll take them ten years to dig your ass out from under the court papers!"

Rita and Erin ran over to the disruption. Rita yelled, "What's going on?"

Helen continued to bear down on the minister. "I don't care if you dated my sister three years ago! I'm not interested!" She faced Rita. "Jake was right! You sure have picked some real winners!"

"Mother!" Erin shrieked. "You promised me he'd gotten help for that!"

Rita screamed at the minister, "First you hit on my niece, and then her mother! You imbecile!"

Though in different parts of the dance hall, Jake and Helen yelled together, "What?!"

"I'd say it's time to make an inconspicuous exit," Amy told the teens. "I'd recommend someplace with cheese fries, but all of us are not going to fit into my car."

"Go ahead, I'd rather sit here and watch the carnage unfold," Luhrman replied.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. It's just like watching a dogfight…except no intelligent life is harmed in the process."

"Okay." Amy started herding Daria, Quinn and John along the edge of the hall. "Time for me to catch up with my nieces and newborn nephew."

* * *

They found refuge in the resort's coffee shop. The waiter placed two demitasse cups of espresso down in front of Amy, a cup of hot water and a screen ball of loose-leaf tea in front of Daria, a diet soda for Quinn and a large regular coffee in front of John.

Amy picked up one of the cups and threw it back like a shot of whiskey. "Ah. I needed that."

"Um," John asked as he poured milk into his coffee, "Didn't that hurt?"

Amy chuckled. "After a while, you burn away the pain sensors. Habit I picked up in grad school; great way to wake up after an exceedingly boring seminar."

Daria said, "So, does life continue to be as irritating and embarrassing as high school?"

"Yeah. It just does it in different ways."

John asked, "Have Daria's mom and Rita always been like that?"

"For about as long as I can remember. Rita was the party girl and Helen was Miss Superstudent. Never really appreciated what they had and jealous of the other. Enough of that. My turn. John, what's Daria like?"

* * *

"I need three rooms!" Jake yelled at the poor check-in clerk for the resort.

"I'm sorry, sir. I only have two rooms left."

John and the rest had entered the resort after hearing the police cars leave the scene. In relief, he said, "Good. He's not going to try to drive home."

Daria said, "Dad's out and about, let's hope Mom wasn't arrested."

"I need three!" Jake ranted. "One for me and my wife, one for my girls, and one for our boy. Count that, three."

"Wouldn't be the first time she was," Amy softly told them.

Quinn's eyes lit up. "Mom's been arrested before?"

The desk clerk shrugged at Jake. "So your kids share a room. It won't kill them."

"I will not have them sharing rooms!" Jake's face was turning bright red. "They're teenagers, dammit!"

"Ask her about Boulder, Colorado, August nineteen sixty-nine. I better go give your father a hand," Amy said and crossed the room to the desk.

She tapped his shoulder. "Jake, I can help."

"Huh?" Jake turned. "Oh, Amy. You can?"

"Why don't I stay with Daria and Quinn while John uses my room?"

"What? Oh, yeah. Thanks, Amy."

The clerk asked, "Sir, do you want those rooms?"

"Yes!"

"Dad, where's Mom?" Daria asked.

Jake spun in surprise. "Kiddo! Are you all right? What did that bastard say to you?"

"Dad?"

"That preacher. Stupid…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Did he…um…make any…"

"Dad, I'm all right. Nothing to worry about."

"Great, Kiddo."

John whispered to Quinn, "You're gonna owe her for that one."

"All of them were with me, Jake," Amy explained. "We went for some coffee."

"Here you are, sir." The clerk placed two key-cards on the desk. "Rooms four-eleven and four-thirteen."

Jake grabbed the key-cards. "Thanks."

The clerk pointed to a sheet of paper and a credit card. "Sir, you need to sign here, and you might want your gold card back."

* * *

"Amy!" Helen and Rita called out. Both women were seated on a step in the ball room with an empty bottle of wine on the floor next to them and an almost empty one in Helen's hand.

John turned in astonishment at the completely trashed room. Tables were overturned, chairs broken and the walls stained with thrown food and drinks. _I've seen the Zon look better after a rave._

Helen and Rita staggered over to Amy. Helen said, "Amy, I love you!"

Half-crying, Rita said, "I love you, too."

Both hugged Amy, who found herself staggering under the weight of abruptly holding both up. "Uh, could I have a little help here?"

John rushed to support Rita while Daria and Quinn got Helen. He said, "Now what?"

"We pour them into their rooms."

"How do we know which one is Rita's?"

Amy fished around in Rita's purse and pulled out a key-card. "One twenty."

Across the room, they heard Erin yell, "Just where in the hell have you been?"

Brian yelled back, "I went to the bowling alley. It was a lot quieter than your family."

* * *

Glad to be out of the tie and jacket, John sat on the bed and looked at the white garter sitting on the dresser. He picked it up and rotated it in his hands while he walked to the window. He leaned his head against the glass and watched the shadows over the resort grounds.

A light moved out on the golf course. _Must be Jake. I wonder where he found the clubs and the poor caddy he stuck with a flashlight?_

He looked down at the garter. _I know Daria would say not to be superstitious. That this doesn't really mean anything. But, it does make me wonder._

A heavy yawn broke his reverie. "Long day. Sleep. Sleep good. Think tomorrow."

Not caring, John didn't bother to undress before crawling into bed. He was asleep mere moments later.

_Happier than he thought possible, John allowed himself a moment to look at the angelic figure by his side. Daria wore a delicately cut and shaped silk gown of pure white. The heartfelt joy of her smile meant more to him than anything as he slowly pulled her into a loving embrace._

_Just as their lips touched, his Uncle Max yelled from the crowd, "You're a bum!"_

_His grandmother yelled at Max. "Like you're any better!"_

_Aunt Bernice hollered, "Shut up or I'll shut you up with a croquet mallet!"_

_Helen stood and turned to face them. "I'm going to have every one of you in court if you don't keep it down."_

"_That's it, Helen," Rita said. "Threaten to sue, just like any other problem you have."_

"_At least it's better than asking Mother to throw her money at the problem!" Helen roared back._

_Near the back, his brother Wind pleaded with a pair of police officers, "But if my marriage to Alice wasn't legal because I was still married to Kathy, then how can I be arrested for bigamy?"_

_Seated on the front row, his mother opened her hands and released a large butterfly._

John sat up and shook his head. "That's it. If we ever get married, nobody's invited."

* * *

The drive home the following morning was quiet. Helen slumped against the side window with an ice pack on her head. Jake concentrated on the road and said little. Daria had mumbled something about spending most of the night talking with Amy and dozed against John.

When he carefully put his arm around Daria's shoulders, Quinn grinned and whispered to him, "Mom and Dad might've forgotten, but I remember who ended up with the garter."

"How much for you to keep quiet about it?" he whispered back.

"I'll think about it."

"Great."

* * *

On the television in her room, Daria and John watched a man on a space shuttle launch tower catch a bug with a net.

The announcer said, "Bug collecting at famous locations! Next, on _Sick, Sad World_!"

Several faint thumps filtered down from the attic.

"Might be raccoons or something," John said. "We had them get in the old house. I'll run up and check."

"Don't tell Dad. He gets on these hunting crazes from time to time. I don't want him stalking raccoons."

"I'll be right back."

John was surprised to see the folding ladder to the attic down in the hall near the stairs. He crept up and looked around. Quinn was sitting beside an open box and looking at something in her lap.

He climbed the rest of the way and went to her. "I wouldn't think you'd be up here, braving the dust."

"When we were little, I used to think Daria was reading to me from this. I'd grab the book and insist on a story. I was kind of a brat that way. But she would, and it was always new." Quinn held up the slender children's book that was in her lap. "But there's only one story in this."

"She said she'd been making up stories for a long time."

"Yeah." Quinn put the book back in the box. "She stopped the stories when Mom went to work and we started into daycare and preschool. I was popular and Daria was teased. It only got worse. I won't even describe how bad it got the last year we were in Highland. And then we moved here and she met you."

Quinn closed the box and grinned. "I've decided what you can do to keep me quiet about the garter."

"What's that?"

"Someday, make it happen."

"I don't…oh."

* * *

Dialog from _I Don't _by Peter Gaffney

Thanks to Ipswichfan, Mr. Orange and Kristen Bealer for beta reading.

October 2005


	12. A Time for Every Purpose

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the twelfth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**A Time for Every Purpose**

John Lane set his easel and painting supplies in one corner of the Morgendorffer living room, next to a haphazard pile of bedding and two sleeping cats. "Last in, first out."

Daria placed two boxes of painting supplies next to the easel. "It's only for the weekend and then you get your room back."

John smirked, "At least we Lanes have the good sense to put sleeping bags in the garage for our guests."

"Considering what you said lived in your old garage, I bet they didn't come back."

"Like I said, we Lanes have good sense."

Casually dressed, Helen Morgendorffer rushed down the steps and opened the door to the small understairs closet.

John asked, "Did your mother inject too much coffee this morning?"

"Either that, or she added No-Doze to it," Daria replied.

"There it is!" Helen called and withdrew from the closet, holding a stepstool that she carried into the kitchen.

Daria and John looked at each other while several bumps and thumps came from the kitchen. Curious, they went over and saw Helen standing on the stool, rummaging in one of the rarely-opened overhead cabinets.

Daria asked, "Still looking for the daughter we misplaced during our move here?"

Helen brightly said as she pulled a bread-making machine from the cabinet, "I'm going to make some bread, Daria."

John said, "That doesn't look like a printing press."

Helen gave him a faux-frustrated glare. "I can't serve the Yeagers store-bought bread this weekend."

Daria asked, "Why do they get such special treatment? You served Grandma store-bought bread the last time we saw her."

"I haven't seen Coyote and Willow for twenty five years, and let's just say they know a different Helen." Helen stopped and sighed, "A Helen famous for her oatmeal pumpkin seed loaf."

John cocked his thumb at the cabinet, "Or is that Helen the one you were looking for up there?"

When Helen heard a tinny car horn outside, she quickly said while adjusting her hair, "That must be the Yeagers! I hope they don't think I've changed too much."

Daria leaned against the counter. "You've always told me, 'Just be yourself.'"

Helen muttered, "I could kick myself for that," as she rushed to the door.

John crossed his arms and looked at Daria, "You passed up a straight line?"

Daria stared dubiously at the bread machine. "Oatmeal pumpkin seed loaf?"

John stared at it too. "Kind of sounds like something your dad would try."

"John, never make that suggestion again."

Quinn yelled from near the front door, "Daria! John! Mom and Dad want you out here!"

John started walking. "I promise."

Daria followed him to where Quinn was waiting by the open door. Outside, a pale yellow Volkswagen Beetle was parked along the street and a couple about Jake and Helen's age was standing near the car, dressed as if they had never left the sixties. A German shepherd with a kerchief around its neck stood nearby, with Jake talking to it.

Quinn asked, "What kind of car is that?"

John said, "Something even more dangerous then Trent's blue bomb."

Straight faced, Daria said, "It's one of the Cars-That-Will-Not-Die."

Jake said to the dog, "Come here, boy! Don't you remember old Jake?"

The dog ignored him.

"Wait, that can't be Leary," Helen said in realization. "He'd be almost thirty by now!"

Willow said, "This is Leary number three."

John whispered to Daria, "Leary? Zachary and Taylor are not going to be happy."

Coyote told Helen, "We had to replace the original a couple times."

Laughing, Jake said, "Hey, Coyote, if only you could do that with Timothy Leary, huh, man?"

"They're working on it, man," Coyote solemnly said.

Helen grabbed Willow and pulled her to the doorway. "Willow, these three are irreplaceable. Our girls, Quinn and Daria, and our newest addition, John."

Willow reached out and held Daria's hands. After a moment of meditation, she said, "You have a very old soul."

"It just looks mature for its age," Daria said, slightly taken aback by Willows sudden physical contact.

Willow next grasped John's hands, saying, "You have the soul of Aquarius."

"Um, yeah," John mumbled. _Whatever that meant._

Quinn slipped behind Daria and John to avoid Willow's soul reading. Willow didn't make a fuss and went back to Jake and Helen.

Still hiding, Quinn asked, "Aren't they taking this retro thing too far?"

John tilted his head back and said, "We'll know if they light up a couple later."

Daria faintly smiled, "Let Mom explain that."

"Ewww," Quinn said in distaste. "That stuff smells awful."

John rolled his eyes, thinking about some of Mystik Spiral's 'brainstorming' sessions. "Tell me about it."

Daria whispered to Quinn, "And how do you know?"

"God, Daria. Anybody can smell what goes on behind the parking lot at school."

"Ethan!" Coyote called to the car. "Come meet everyone!"

A brown-haired teenage boy wearing a black t-shirt and loose jeans crawled out of the back of the VW.

Quinn pushed between Daria and John to sweetly say, "Hi, Ethan."

"You know," John said as an aside to Daria, "Those back seats are cramped. I bet he smells like the dog."

* * *

Basking in the warm sunlight coming through the large corner window of the living room, two tiger-striped tomcats contentedly snoozed. Zachary and Taylor were pleased with how attentive their new staff members were compared to the old. However, they were curious as to why the young male that had come with them had moved the big, three-legged stand and bedding downstairs, but not enough to interrupt a deserved morning nap. 

Orange-haired Zachary lifted his head at the noise coming from the door and instantly stood with back hunched and fur raised at seeing Leary. Zachary's sharp hiss woke up his gray-haired brother, who added a hiss of his own at the offensive intruder.

John quickly stepped to the side, muttering, "Why couldn't you two sleep in the kitchen?" while crouching to intercept the cats.

Excited, Leary gave a cheerful bark and bounced past John toward the felines, eager to play.

"Dammit!" John sputtered as he charged after the dog.

"Oh, dear," Helen said, realizing what was about to happen.

Taylor reared up directly in front of Leary and swatted the dog's nose with both front paws. At the same time, Zachary leapt onto the dog's shoulder and raked down with his rear claws. Leary yelped and jumped back in fright. Zachary jumped off as the dog turned and ran back to Coyote and Willow.

John took advantage of the cats reveling in their victory to snatch both up and hold them tight, saying to them, "Hey, that wasn't Uncle Max."

"John…" Helen called for his attention.

"I know, I know," he said, already walking toward the door. "They're going into the garage."

Daria moved ahead of him into the kitchen to open the door into the walk-through laundry that led to the garage.

After Daria closed the door behind him, John set the disgruntled cats on the floor. "Sorry guys, but we can't have you beating up the guests."

Daria shook her head. "I wish we could get out of here. I don't know how many more good vibes I can stand."

"Yeah, but if someone doesn't stay around to watch these two, that poor dog is toast."

"Normally, I'd say survival of the fittest, but you know Mom would make us clean things up."

* * *

Seated in the dining room with everyone else, John said to Daria, "Wow, first time this room's been used for its intended purpose." He took a bite from his sandwich and found himself wishing for the cafeteria at Lawndale High. _Oatmeal pumpkin seed loaf with tofu patties, yuck._

Daria watched his reaction to the food and said back to him, "Only because we can't cram everyone around the kitchen table." Skilled from regular use, she palmed a small shaker bottle of mixed spices, sprinkled some over the puddle of peas on her plate and onto the sandwich.

Coyote explained to Jake, "So for the past twelve years, we've been selling hemp-fiber hammocks through the mail."

Daria quietly passed the spice bottle to John and said, "And I don't know if our digestive systems can handle the amount of fiber in this meal."

John hid his smirk, watching Jake feed part of his tofu to Leary as Willow said, "And with all the new breakthroughs with hemp processing, this could be out most exciting year yet."

Visibly bored, Helen said, "Oh, that's fascinating." She next asked, "Quinn, didn't you have a date tonight?"

Taking advantage of the attention on Quinn, John added the spices to his food.

Quinn shrugged, "I got Stacy to fill in."

Jake said to Ethan, "You know, John's on the track team. Are you into sports, Ethan?"

Looking less interested than Helen, Ethan swirled peas on his plate.

"I think that could be called a 'no,'" John said. "Which means he doesn't have to listen to someone like Ms. Morris scream."

Willow, possibly repulsed, said, "We think there's enough aggressive behavior on the planet without creating more with quote, unquote, healthy competition."

John laughed. "Healthy? You haven't seen Lawndale High sports."

Willow asked, "Then why?"

"I like to run." _And I don't have a choice, but maybe I can buy some brownie points with Mrs. Morgendorffer if I keep quiet about that._

"Ethan's gonna rock climb." Not getting a response from his son, Coyote added, "When he's ready."

John passed the spice bottle to Quinn.

Ethan mumbled, "Whatever." He looked in disgust at his plate.

Tasting her sandwich, Willow said, "You can always tell when bread isn't hand kneaded. Hand kneaded bread has more soul."

Quinn added the spices to her plate and passed the bottle back to John.

Daria looked at her sandwich and quietly said, "Sole is right, this must be what leather tastes like. Even the spices didn't help."

"This veggie stuff never fills me up." Jake stood and asked, "Anyone want a burger?"

Willow and Coyote glared at him with disapproval while Helen gazed on in frustration. John and Daria perked up at the mention of meat, Quinn continued hoping the whole situation was just over and Ethan, as far as anyone could tell, hadn't noticed.

Jake tried to recover by saying, "Hey, fair's fair. We'll all be worm food someday."

Helen admonished, "Jake!"

John felt the evil urge to say something and gave in to the temptation. "Whatever floats your boat. I'm having my body sent to a taxidermist and then put on permanent display as a final piece of nonperformance art."

Everyone turned to look at John.

Feigning innocence, he held up his hands, "What?"

Daria lightly pinched his arm and said, "We'll have to wait for Johnburgers until we fatten him up a little more, but Dad, I'll take a cowburger now."

Jake laughed at his daughter's joke and Willow nervously looked between the two of them.

"You know man, I'm getting some aggressive vibes around here," Coyote said.

Defensive, Jake said, "Are not!"

Willow said, "It must be all the meat."

Jake barked, "Is not!"

Willow sadly said, "What ever happened to that mellow, 'let it be,' attitude you used to have?"

All at the same time, Helen and John asked, "Jake?" while Daria and Quinn said, "Dad?"

* * *

Holding hands and sitting on the floor with their backs against her bed, Daria and John watched television. On the screen was a picture of two frogs as the announcer said, "A nightmare story of an enchanted kiss gone horribly wrong! When _Sick, Sad World_ returns." 

As the commercial started, John said, "You could drop those two into the art colony Mom's living at and nobody would know the difference."

"The frogs or the Yeagers?"

"Hmm. Come to think of it, the frogs might be more welcome. Even artists will eat meat."

Daria poked him. "I meant as guests, not as snacks."

"Oooh."

"Smartass."

"At least that's one part of me that is."

After a short knock, Quinn pushed the door open a bit more and stuck her head in. "Hi. Can we join you?"

Sighing, Daria said, "I suppose you're fleeing the wonderful memories downstairs."

"They're talking about tailgating pentagrams and stuff. It's kind of creepy."

John said, "That gave me some interesting visuals for paintings."

Quinn entered and Ethan ambled in behind her.

He looked around and said, "Cool room."

Quinn looked askance at him. "Um, yeah."

Daria said, "Not everyone wants a pink paradise."

"Hope you don't mind _Sick, Sad World_," John said, motioning to the TV.

"We don't get cable. Actually, the only station on the dial that works is PBS," Ethan replied.

John raised an eyebrow, "Dial? As in, turn and click?"

"Yeah. Mom and Dad think that remotes make people lazy and fat."

Daria shrugged, "Okay, they have a point with that one."

"But finding tubes for it is getting to be a pain."

* * *

"Ommmmm." 

"Ommmmm."

The strange noises broke into John's sleep. He rolled over on the sofa toward the sounds and opened his eyes. _Ugh.. Two upside-down, middle-aged butts in sweatpants was not what I wanted to see first thing in the morning._

In the center of the room, Coyote and Willow, legs folded into a full lotus position, were standing on their heads in mediation.

"Ommmmm."

"Ommmmm."

John tossed the blanket over the sofa back and got up, admitting that sleep would not return. Yawning, he walked around the sofa and noticed Helen in the kitchen, stirring some kind of batter in a bowl. She cleared her glare at the meditating guests upon noticing John.

He stumbled into the kitchen. "Please tell me you have coffee."

Helen slightly smiled, in a way reminiscent of Daria. "John, even old hippies need caffeine."

He pulled out a mug and filled it, dumping in extra sugar before heading to the jug of milk next to Helen. There, he splashed milk into the mug and took a long drink. "Ah."

Seeing Helen's aggressive stirring of the batter, he reached under the counter and brought up a bag of cat food. "I'll go take care of my cats."

Half-listening, Helen said, "Be careful; we wouldn't want them getting out and terrorizing poor Leary again."

John silently went into the garage, where he was met by disgruntled meows. He responded, "Hey, you two brought this onto yourselves. Don't complain."

He poured food into a pair of bowls and took another pair to a sink to fill them with fresh water. When he brought them back, he crouched and said, "But I think somebody wouldn't be upset if you accidentally got out."

* * *

Back in the kitchen, John could hear Jake say, "Good morning! Say goodbye to cookie-cutter-corporate Jake, he's long gone. Say hello to the new Jake; the old Jake you haven't seen for a while." 

Helen turned, cocking a spoon full of batter like a catapult. "You didn't quit your job, did you?"

Jake walked around the corner, sporting overnight stubble on his face. "No, I'm growing a beard again."

Reassured and annoyed, Helen said, "Oh, that's great, dear."

John looked at the bowl. "Can I ask what that is?"

"It's for my barley, wheat and fig muffins."

_Okay, I'm starting to understand where Jake got some of his weird cooking ideas._

As Daria and Quinn entered the kitchen, Jake greeted them with a smile and, "Hey, girls! How do you like my new look?"

"Dad, are you growing a goatee?" Quinn rolled her eyes. "That's so two years ago."

"Try a little ten-ten-ten. That should make it grow faster," Daria quipped as she walked past everyone to John.

John gave her a fast, one-armed hug and a discreet kiss on the cheek. He whispered, "I'm not sure if we'll survive much more of this healthy food."

Daria looked at the batter-filled bowl and asked John, "What's that?"

"Another car on the fiber express."

"My intestines are jumping for joy."

Very mellow, Coyote and Willow jointed the rest in the kitchen. Coyote said, "I really feel centered now."

Willow noticed Jake's face and said, "Nice whiskers."

Jake grinned and replied, "Thanks!"

Quinn slipped back away from everyone. "It's kind of getting crowded here. Maybe Ethan and I could go somewhere for breakfast."

Curious, Daria asked, "Where is he?"

John went back to the living room, looked at one of the sofas and pointed with a finger. "Sleeping like Trent."

Quinn rushed over and stopped with her hands on her hips. "Ethan!"

He pulled the sheet down from over his head.

Quinn asked, "Wouldn't you like to take me out for breakfast?"

"Breakfast?" Ethan pulled the sheet back over his head. "Call me at lunch time."

Quinn let out a frustrated, "Oh!" before stalking away.

* * *

"Wow. Now I know why all those hippies went to those marches and protests," Daria drolly said while watching her father clumsily juggle two balls. "It was to break the boredom of the entertainment." 

Standing in front of John and Daria in the living room and happy with his progress, Jake said, "Hey, it's coming back to me! Anybody want to try?"

Preparing to sit on another sofa, Helen reached down to move a displaced pillow. The soggy fabric caused instant revulsion that was reflected in her face. "Dog drool. That beast."

"Remind me not to sleep on that one tonight," John said in sympathy.

Holding the pillow by the corner, she set it aside and prepared to sit. Before she could, Leary bounded across the room and jumped, forcing her to sit. She angrily pushed him back and pointed to the door, "Outside!"

Daria answered the ringing telephone. "Hello? Oh, hi. Not right now, we have guests in town for the weekend. I'm sure. Okay, I'll tell her. Bye."

Helen asked, "Who was that?"

"That was Eric Schrecter. I told him you were busy with guests this weekend and he said to let you know that the hearing was moved up to this week."

Coyote and Willow were taken aback with Helen's outburst of "What? This week?"

Jake stopped juggling. "Talk about uptight."

Helen noticed her old friends and waved her hand. "Oh, nothing that can't wait until Monday. I never could understand how that man could lock himself in a cage on the weekend like that."

"I'm so glad you still have your priorities, Helen," Willow softly said.

Jake raised his fist. "Right on!"

Coyote waved a frisbee at Leary and said, "Who's up?"

Leary barked and grasped the disk in his mouth. Coyote and Willow turned and followed the playful dog outside with Jake close behind.

Out of earshot of the Yeagers, Daria whispered, "Mom, if you're gonna make us stay…"

Helen fought to keep from grabbing the telephone.

Daria added, "You know how Eric exaggerates things. I bet it can wait until Monday."

"You better be right," Helen said, still eyeing the phone.

"Besides, you know he emailed you all the gory details. You can stay up and deal with it after the Yeagers go to sleep."

Helen slyly smiled at Daria. "Got me." She picked up the soiled pillow using her fingertips and stood. "I better go put this in the laundry."

She went into the kitchen and John picked up the remote, turning on the TV. A few seconds later, motion caught John's eye and he saw the tip of a gray tail disappear under one of the other sofas.

Helen came back into the living room. "I'll be outside with everyone else."

John and Daria waved.

After she was gone, John looked at the remaining sofa, where Ethan lightly snored, and said, "I was right; he does sleep like Trent."

Ethan opened his eyes and said in a low tone, "Are they gone?"

"So, you are awake." Daria folded her arms.

"You'd have to be deaf or oblivious to sleep through that."

John said, "That's Trent. Well, tone-deaf, but definitely oblivious."

"I can't believe those two are the Jake and Helen that my folks have gone on about for years."

Daria perked up. "Oh?"

Ethan sat up. "Yeah. Helen was the super-feminist that burned a bra with a blowtorch."

Daria laughed. "That, I can believe."

"And Jake was the mellow militant ready to jump into any cause."

John said, "I'm still having a hard time with that mellow part."

Daria said, "I suspect it was herbally induced."

Ethan continued, "I mean, are those the two that spend a day in jail in Boulder for their naked protest of an auto mechanic?"

"Was this in August of 1969?"

"Have you heard it?"

"My Aunt Amy told me that they were arrested then, but didn't give any details. What in the world were they protesting an auto mechanic for?"

"They missed Woodstock waiting on parts for a Dodge Dart."

* * *

Daria called from the kitchen, "Go on, we'll stay here and do the dishes. Won't we, John?" 

Stacking plates into the sink, John one-arm shrugged. "Sure."

"I've gotta track down that off and on miss in the car," Coyote said, "Coming with, Jake?"

"Sure, my man," Jake agreed.

Willow asked, "Oh, Quinn. Do you want to join Helen and me making a compost pile?"

Standing behind Willow, Helen rolled her eyes in dreaded anticipation.

"Thanks and all, but I think I'll stay here and help Daria and John do the dishes."

Still sitting at the table from lunch, Ethan muttered, "Eh, I might as well stay here and help, too."

"We'll be outside," Willow said and she followed Coyote and Jake out.

Helen folded her arms and said, "You're using the dishwasher, aren't you?"

"I didn't say how we were doing them," Daria said.

* * *

Belly just grazing the carpet, Taylor silently crept along the edge of the entertainment center. The tip of his tail twitched in anticipation. Along the wall edge from the kitchen, Zachary likewise stalked the sleeping dog nestled in the living room corner. Both froze when Leary made a noise in his throat and twitched his legs. After waiting several seconds to make sure the dog was still asleep, the cats restarted their advance. 

About six feet away from Leary, the cats dashed ahead and jumped onto the dog's back, both letting out loud meows and scratching with all claws. Leary yelped and jumped to his feet, causing the cats to bounce away to guarded positions. Confused, Leary looked around and was swatted by each cat in turn. He bolted for the door and the cats followed him halfway before stopping and staring. Waiting for him to try to come back, they stood with backs arched and tails fluffed.

The teens, hearing the racket, rushed in from the kitchen, where they'd been talking.

Daria said, "I thought you put them in the garage?"

"I did," John said.

"Then how'd they get out?"

"Someone must've gone into the garage and not paid attention."

Ethan stepped into the living room. "However they got out, we better save Leary before he gets self-esteem issues again."

Daria and John locked eyes and laughed.

Quinn came up behind Ethan and said, "Don't ask. It's their special place."

Daria glared at Quinn's back.

John gently pulled on Daria. "I suppose we should go out and see if the adults are staying out of trouble."

Leary barked and ran outside as soon as Ethan opened the door.

Ethan stopped in surprise to hear his father say, "Man, can you teach me how to play golf?"

Daria and John filed out of the house in time to hear Jake say, "Sure I can, man."

Jake and Coyote were sitting on the front of the VW, drinking from some bottles. Coyote downed more and said, "And can we ride around on those little carts?"

Jake slapped Coyote's back and also took a drink. "Sure thing, pal!"

Smeared with mud and debris and disgusted, Willow and Helen walked around the house toward the VW.

Jake beamed widely when he noticed them and said, "Hey, is that some kind of organic nutrient body bath? Far out!"

Helen marched passed and grumbled, "We fell on our asses in a puddle of garbage. I feel like a hog."

Coyote looked at the women. "Hog? Oh, man. I'd love some bacon."

Willow snapped, "Oh, thanks so much for your concern!"

When they marched past, Daria placed her hand over John's mouth.

Jake saw the kids and said, "Hey, what's up?"

"Dog rescue," Daria replied.

Ethan sniffed Coyote's bottle. "Dad, the berry juice fermented again. You gotta watch that."

He motioned with his head, "Come on. Let's go get a slush cup."

Quinn moved up close. "It's about time!"

John said, "How about pizza instead?"

Ethan shrugged. "Whatever"

As they got to the sidewalk, Ethan asked, "Got any money?"

After staring at his distorted reflection in the recycled soda bottle used for the berry juice, Jake shouted, "Where's my razor?" and ran into the house.

Coyote looked at Jake, shrugged, and drained his bottle, quietly saying, "Of course it's fermented."

* * *

_The boy's a mutant. He sleeps like Trent and eats like Jesse._ John watched as Ethan single-handedly finished off a Scavenger Delight. 

Quinn daintily ate her cheeseless slice while Daria and John had split a small pepperoni pizza.

"To cover themselves, Mom and Dad said that they were growing it for fiber and were shipped the wrong plants by mistake." Ethan shrugged and added, "What made it look good was that they really were making things from the fiber."

Daria smirked, "Dual use product?"

"You could say that. But, the bust made Mom and Dad switch over to growing the proper hemp, which actually has higher quality fibers. In the long run, it worked out better for them."

Not buying the story entirely, John asked, "So they switched, just like that?"

"Well…the probation officer coming by once or twice a month to check on what they were actually growing might have something to do with it."

"You know," Daria observed, "I bet they could sell a lot more if they went online with their hammocks."

* * *

Later in the evening, the four returned to the house to find the adults seated around the kitchen table, along with the remains of dinner. 

Helen stood and firmly planted herself in front of them, hands on hips. "Children. We expected you for dinner. Before I officially ground all of you, would you care to account for your whereabouts?"

Daria shrugged. "Sure. But first, a few questions. Number one. Why did you spend a night in jail in Boulder in August, 1969?

Helen laughed, "Now where did you get such a silly idea?"

"From two independent sources. Can I call Aunt Amy about how much she wired for your bail?"

Helen blushed. "Oh, um…"

John looked at a piece of cardboard taped over a hole in the kitchen window. "Any idea of how this happened?"

"You see," Jake explained, "Coyote's stance was a little off, so he kept slicing."

John raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure the neighbors were thrilled with you teaching somebody to play golf in the back yard."

* * *

The next morning, everyone was gathered near the Yeager's car, where Leary was already waiting in the back seat. Willow fitted Helen's bread machine into the front trunk of the car and closed the lid. 

Coyote shook Jake's hand. "Thanks for that marketing plan, man. We're going to kick the butts of those wimps over at Rainbow Hammocks."

Jake grinned. "Hey, take no prisoners, man. Predatory behavior is all natural."

Coyote rubbed his stomach and whispered to Jake, "Speaking of predatory, the bacon was good."

Willow hugged Helen. "Thanks for the bread machine. It's going to save me so much time." She moved closer and whispered, "So will the frozen bagels."

Ethan nodded to Daria. "Thanks for the website idea. Mom and Dad finally agreed to get a computer."

John chuckled. "Once we informed them that they didn't need paper-wasting punch cards."

Quinn demurely said, "Ethan…you never mentioned how cute I was."

"Oh, well, yeah. In a kind of superficial way, but you have potential."

Quinn smiled wide. "Thanks, Ethan."

"No compliment gets by you, does it?" Daria quipped.

Quinn turned and winked at Daria, "Of course not. I notice you never miss one from John."

Daria faintly blushed while the Yeager's squeezed into the car.

Amid a flurry of good-byes, they backed down the driveway and drove off.

Jake put his arms around Daria and John's shoulders. "You know, kids, it's pointless to try to turn back time. You have to live in the present."

"That's where I've tended to live," John said.

"Good one. Dammit! I'm gonna start right now. Starting by getting rid of all my vinyl records. Hey, Daria, John! You want 'em?"

Daria leaned back to look at John. "Think Trent would be interested?"

Inside the big corner window, Zachary and Taylor watched the amusing human antics before settling down to a nice, comfortable nap.

* * *

Dialog from:  
_That Was Then, This is Dumb_  
By Anne D. Bernstein 

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

November 2005.


	13. Movie Magik

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the thirteenth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Movie Magik**

"Isn't she cute?" Jake Morgendorffer said while watching a videotape of his eldest daughter's third birthday party. The little girl in green sat at a table with a cake before her. Seated close by was a pink-clad toddler in a high chair.

"I'm so sorry," John Lane whispered to the auburn-haired teen girl sitting next to him on a sofa as they watched the video.

Daria whispered back, "Thanks, but someday, I'll make sure I see some of you." 

"Don't bet on it. Being fifth in line has its advantages. Parents get tired of taking pictures and movies, even if your dad's a photographer."

"I hate you." 

Also present was Daria's sister Quinn. She grinned to watch her sister's discomfort while her 18-month old image blew out the candles on the birthday cake before Daria's image could.

The young Daria said, "Hey! You're ruining my birthday cake!" 

The teenaged Daria glared at Quinn, who shrugged.

On the TV, the child Daria cried out, "Make her stop!" as her mother entered the picture.

The recorded Helen said, "Oh Daria, she's just a baby; she wants to play too!"

John looked at the image, and then at Daria. "Except for the bangs, your mom's hair back then looks a lot like yours now, Daria." 

Quinn gasped and leaned over to backhand slap John's arm. She harshly whispered, "You idiot!"

While Daria shot John a look that could almost kill, her taped childhood voice said, "Why can't I be an only child?"

Confused, John uttered, "Huh?"

Quinn slapped him again and hissed, "You don't compare a girl to her mother like that, it's…creepy." 

"I was only…"

Quinn slapped him a third time. "Stop, you'll make it worse."

Daria turned slightly away to hide her smirk.

Jake stopped the tape and removed it from the VCR. He grinned back at John and said, "Isn't it great to sit here and see Daria and Quinn's lives unfold before your eyes?"

John rubbed his arm. "Great." 

Jake grinned more and said while searching through a box of tapes, "Guess what? I also found a box of old home movies my Dad took of me when I was a kid! I'm having them transferred to video tape!"

"Dad?" Daria said, "Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"Sure it is." Jake found the tape he was after and took the cover off. "Oh, wow, Quinn's birth. Sorry that they wouldn't let a camera into the delivery room for Daria, but at least we got film of Quinn coming out!"

Quinn's eyes popped open and Daria buried her face in her hands. John hesitantly said, "Um, Mr. Morgendorffer, this is interesting and all, but I really need to get started on some…math homework."

* * *

Waiting in line outside the Playhouse 99 Theater under a banner that read, "Food in Film Festival," Daria told John, "Okay, getting us out of seeing Quinn's birth brought you up to knee deep."

"So, I'll have to get the rest of the way out the old fashioned way?" 

"Begging and groveling works."

"You're enjoying this way too much."

They were interrupted by a male voice saying, "I don't see any vegetables!"

Behind them was Kevin Thompson, carrying a bag of produce. His overly-cheerful girlfriend Brittany Taylor stood next to him, twirling a lock of blond hair in her fingers. Daria quipped, "You should have my view."

John asked, "Vegetables?" 

Brittany squeaked, "You know, to throw during the big food fight!"

"Food fight?" Daria cautiously asked.

Kevin pointed to the banner hanging from the side of the building and said, "Daria, are you thick or something?" 

"Didn't you see the _Rocky Horror Picture Show_ here last month?" Brittany asked. She held her boyfriend's arm and smiled at him, saying, "Kevin and I traded each other's underwear."

"You're not doing it today, are you?" John inquired.

Kevin slapped his forehead. "Aw, man!" 

Daria shook her head at John and said, "Sorry, they're showing _Andre Sakarynsky's Last Meal._ It's not exactly an audience participation movie."

Brittany frowned, "What kind is it, then?"

John answered, "A thirties-vintage Russian art film. With subtitles."

Kevin and Brittany looked at each other in fear for a moment before Kevin handed the grocery bag to Daria and ran off with Brittany right behind him.

The look Daria gave John combined annoyance with a faint smile. "You managed to get yourself out of the hole you'd dug without any groveling. Dammit."

* * *

The sky was filled with dark storm clouds as John and Daria left the theater after the movie. John's stomach grumbled and he said, "I'm hungry. I wish we'd saved some of Kevin's produce before palming it off on those college students."

One of their teachers, Mr. O'Neill, stepped out of the theater and said, "Daria? John?" 

In a low voice, Daria said, "Can't we get away from these people?"

John thought, _At least he's not here with Ms. Barch. Those two together…now that's creepy._

Daria pivoted and said, "Hi, Mr. O'Neill."

Mr. O'Neill seemed to radiate nauseating enthusiasm. "Hi, kids! I'm just so invigorated! Great cinema is timeless. Couldn't that movie have been made today?"

"I guess," Daria said, "if you could find someone to exhume the actors."

After noticing the dark sky, Mr. O'Neill asked, "Can I give you two a lift home?"

Hiding the truth in her sarcasm, Daria shook her head, saying, "No, that's okay, we love to walk." 

"Yeah, it's a perfect night for a nice long stroll," John added, just as a peal of thunder rolled over and heavy rain started. He looked up and said, "But then again, maybe not."

* * *

Driving through the rain, Mr. O'Neill nervously looked at Daria and John in the back seat. Daria rolled her eyes in a way that told John, "Why does the idea of us being together seem so weird to people?" 

Mr. O'Neill said over his shoulder, "Uh, sometimes…it seems like film is a better mirror of the times than the novel. John, could that be from its greater verisimilitude?"

"Um, what's verisimilitude?"

Mr. O'Neill tried again, asking, "What about you, Daria?"

Daria shook her head. "Come on, movies are fast, easy, and somebody else reads the big words for you. It's no wonder that the unwashed masses prefer them over books."

Mr. O'Neill bubbled with excitement. "That's a fabulous class assignment. Daria, thank you for the suggestion!"

"Um, did I make a suggestion?" Daria's shoulders drooped as the reality sunk in. "I don't suppose you'd listen if I said taking the suggestion would hurt my self-esteem, would you?"

* * *

The next day in his sophomore English class, Mr. O'Neill said, "So class, everyone will be making their own movies, as an exercise in living literature. Everyone, please thank Daria for that exciting suggestion."

Daria grumbled, "There's that word again."

"And I'm sure you have a few ideas of what he can do with that word," John replied.

Mr. O'Neill picked up a notepad from his desk and asked, "Now before we split into movie making teams, would anyone like to direct?" 

The rest of class loudly vying for Mr. O'Neill's attention drowned out Daria's reply.

* * *

Seated between John and Daria, Jake protectively held his hands over a camcorder. "Remember you two, this isn't the sort of thing one ordinarily lends a pair of teenagers. I'm trusting you."

"Dad, we'll be careful," Daria told him.

John said, "You've got nothing on my Dad about camera paranoia, don't worry." 

"That's right," Jake said, "he must've already showed you a lot about camcorders."

John shrugged. "I kind of remember he played with one when I was little, but he's mostly into still photography. But I think between the two of us, we'll remember how to use it."

"Um, okay. Just…try not to wear it out."

* * *

John fitted and adjusted until he had the camcorder set in the shrub just as he wanted. "There. Street-cam."

Daria looked at the lens pointed down their quiet, residential street. "You're just going to leave it going?

"A couple days, to record everything through the shrub's completely objective point of view." 

Daria watched a leaf blow across the road. "Wow." 

John said, "Critics called it brilliant when Andy Warhol filmed a guy sleeping on the street for eight hours."

"You told me that was also back when Picasso intentionally painted crap and sold it at inflated prices to people that only bought it because of his name."

"Um, oh, yeah."

A dog across the street stopped and squatted down. Daria reached into the shrub and turned off the camera. "That is not going to be our climax."

John kicked the grass and said, "A script might be a good idea."

* * *

Daria sat on her bed, reading from a script, "And then you open the window, saying, 'Now I understand, I understand everything.' Then you jump, screaming on the way down, 'Life's a meaningless descent into the void.'"

"Can we change the window part a bit? John asked. "Maybe a flashpot under the window? I want to blow something up."

Daria bowed her head, shaking it. "Guys."

* * *

Daria sat at John's desk and read from another script in a squeaky voice, "Is there no way out?"

John looked down at another copy of the script while starting to shape some clay into a vaguely human form. Also squeaky, he said, "No exit my friend. It's just us, stuck in this room forever…ack!" John made a face and rubbed his throat. "That is not gonna work."

Daria sat back and frowned. "You're right. And hand-held clay puppets are going to give all the cinematic charm of no-budget public access children's shows."

* * *

John stopped and cocked his head when he noticed Quinn searching his closet. "What are you looking for?"

Quinn jumped a bit and said, "Can I borrow something to wear to the Fashion Club party tonight?" 

Beside John, Daria said, "Check her for major brain trauma."

"Please, John?" Quinn pleaded. "It's for the Fashion Don'ts Costume Gala."

John crossed his arms and chortled. "I suppose you would consider me a walking fashion don't. Sure, why not?"

"Thanks!" Quinn grabbed one of John's red shirts. "Hey Daria, can I borrow one of your skirts?"

"If it officially declares my skirts fashion don'ts, yes."

"You guys are great!" Quinn rushed down to Daria's room.

John and Daria watched as moments later, Quinn emerged with a skirt and went straight into her room.

John wondered out loud, "A fashion don'ts party could be a little cinematic."

Daria shook her head. "It's still a party. No way. Quinn's gotten better over the last few months, but her friends…forget it."

John shrugged. "Just a thought."

Daria went back into John's room. "Well, keep thinking. We still need a movie subject."

* * *

"Don't even think it. I'm staying behind the camera," Daria told John. 

After a quick knock, Jake stuck his head in the room and said, "John, telephone. Sounds like your brother."

John shook his head. "I wonder what crisis is striking the band this time?" He took the cordless phone from Jake and said, "Thanks." 

"No problemo." Jake backed out of the room.

"Hey Trent," John said into the phone.

Sitting in the middle of a room that looked like an exploded laundromat, Trent said, "Hey Johnny, are you busy Saturday? We could use some help with setup at the Zon."

"Well, I…just a second." John covered the phone and said, "How about the story of a cutting-edge band on the verge of waking up?"

"I don't know."

"Hey, we won't have to write a script, and between the band and the audience, we should get plenty of entertaining footage."

"And all we have to do is risk severe brain damage."

"Earplugs."

"Hmm. It gets us away from here, it'll be point and shoot with minimal effort. I think you're onto something."

"Okay." Back to the phone, he said, "Trent, Daria and I are in. Do you mind if we bring a camera and film your set?"

Trent asked, "Um, like a music video or something?"

John grinned. "Yeah, a live music video. We're doing it for class, but I'm sure we can dupe a copy for you."

"All right. We're in." Trent said to Jesse, who was sitting on a deflating beanbag chair, "Hey, Johnny and Daria are gonna shoot a music video for us."

"Cool."

* * *

After dispensing the last of the food to everyone's plates, Helen busied herself with stacking empty take-out containers together to clear the table.

Aghast, Quinn looked at Daria and said, "You're gonna follow them around all day?"

John corrected, "Not all day. They don't know the meaning of morning. Hopefully they'll be moving by mid afternoon."

Daria said, "And after that, it depends on how much we can stand."

Helen finished her cleanup. "I so enjoy getting home early to make dinner for my family."

"My video transfers!" Jake came into the kitchen waving a videotape. "I can't wait to show everyone my childhood!"

"We can watch after dinner," Helen suggested.

"I'm going to write some narration before the grand opening. You know, to capture the whole feel of the period. Probably take a couple of days."

Worried, Helen thought for a moment and said, "You never seemed to have good memories of those days."

Jake shook his head and continued grinning. "It's all coming back to me and really makes me miss my childhood! Kids, enjoy your youth! They're the best years of your lives."

John scrunched his face and said, "Weren't you telling us after the Yeagers left not to dwell on the past and to live in the present?"

Daria gently elbowed him. "Shh. Don't try to get him to mix short and long term memories."

* * *

Jake settled onto the sofa directly in front of the television. An audio tape recorder was next to him and he was hooking up a small microphone. 

Walking to the front door from the kitchen, Daria stopped and said, "Ready for your big voiceover debut, Dad?"

He turned and said, "That's right, Kiddo." Jake held up the mike and said, "I'm gonna lead you on a romp through ol' Dad's childhood."

"How about if I skip the romp and just observe?"

"Sure thing!"

From outside, John opened the front door and said, "Daria, Trent's here." 

Daria said, "See ya, Dad."

"Okay, Daria. Can't wait for you to see this."

"Um, right. We'll call if we run late."

After the teens left, Jake started the VCR and the audio recorder. He spoke into the microphone, "It was a time of innocence, when you left your doors unlocked and candy bars cost a nickel. Not that those two facts are related, I'm…aww, dammit! Lemme start over here."

The video showed Jake as a six year old boy riding a bicycle on a street in front of a ranch-style house. On the sidewalk behind him was his mother, watching.

Jake tried again, saying, "It was a carefree time when a young boy could learn to ride a bike on sun-dappled streets."

On the playback, he cut a turn too sharp and fell to the pavement, crying. His mother waved to someone off-camera and walked away, seeming not to notice Jake's mishap. 

Jake barked, "Hey! Hey! Why doesn't anybody help that poor kid? He skinned his knee!"

The child Jake wiped the tears away with his arm and climbed back onto the bike, riding again. 

Jake's face started turning red and he yelled, "Oh I get it! 'Get back on the bike Jake, big boys don't cry. Crying is for girls Jakey.' You heartless old bastard! It's all coming back to me now!"

* * *

Outside, Daria looked at Trent's old blue Plymouth and said, "At least we're not getting shoehorned into the Tank."

"Oh, for small miracles," John said in agreement.

When they reached the car, they saw that Trent's girlfriend Monique was in the passenger seat. She waved and said, "Hey Johnny, hey Daria." 

John opened the back door, looked inside and whispered to Daria, "Better let me get in first."

He slid over to the seat center to squeeze against the guitar case and loose cables piled on the rest of the seat. He nodded to Monique. "Hi." 

Daria squeezed in and closed the door. "Hi Trent, hi Monique."

Trent looked up at the rear-view mirror to see his brother and Daria. "All right, Mystik Spiral's going video. Do we get fireworks or anything?"

"What is it with guys and fire?" Shaking her head, Daria sank back in the seat. 

John half-grinned and said, "Fire's cool."

Eyes narrowed, Daria raised her head and gravely said, "Don't ever say that again."

* * *

Max's battered old black van was already parked by the back entrance to the Zon when Trent's car pulled up behind it. The back and side doors of the van were open and haphazardly stacked band equipment filled the space inside. Jesse sat on the bumper, eating a hamburger; Nick squatted, leaning against the building's wall while trying to untangle a knot of electrical cables and Max was doing something under the hood that involved a roll of duct tape.

Jesse waved and stood, ambling over to the driver's door. "Hey, Trent."

"I thought you guys were gonna start unloading," Trent said through the open window.

"Um, we have, sorta."

Monique got out of the car. "Yeah, you've unloaded your lunch." 

"It's a start." Jesse finished off his burger with a large bite.

Daria tilted her head and said, "This looks promising."

Trent opened the door and stood on the edge of the floorboard, calling, "Hey Max, what's up?" 

Max stuck his head out past the hood and growled, "Damn heater hose busted again."

John told Daria, "Meaning that the duct tape from the last time he fixed it ripped." 

"Now I'm really glad we didn't ride in that thing to Alternapalooza."

* * *

"Hold on, hold on, hold on!" Nick snapped. "Gimme a sec, will ya!" He rubbed the side of his fist over the top of an amplifier, as if searching by touch for something. He rapped the box twice and told Trent, "Try it again."

A brash chord came from the speakers when Trent strummed his guitar. "All right."

A second chord, crackling with static, sounded as Jesse tried his guitar. "Bummer."

Nick shook his head and walked over to Jesse. He pulled the cable from the instrument and wiped the connector on his shirt before reconnecting it. After a measured twist back and forth, he said, "Now."

Jesse strummed and nodded at the note produced. "Cool."

Max twisted and wiggled on his stool behind the drum set. He tap-tested several drums, scowled and scooted the stool over a couple inches. Repeating the test, he shook his head and scooted the stool a little more. The next test he nodded and said, "Oh yeah, percussion perfection." 

Daria stopped recording and turned away from the band, saying to John, "Perfection?"

"In a tone-deaf kind of way," John explained. "Be glad you didn't hear them a couple years ago."

"They used to be worse?" 

"They frightened the neighbor's pit bull. The same one that was hauled away by Animal Control for biting a chunk out of the mailman's tire."

* * *

Tucked behind a semi-protective barricade of stacked case boxes of beer, Daria was adjusting the camcorder tripod when she was startled by Trent saying, "Dad used to have one of those."

"Huh?" 

"A video camera. Don't know what happened to it." 

"Sounds like your dad's experimented with a lot of different cameras."

"Yeah."

"I suppose it was packed off to the art colony with your folks." 

"Or, he could've hocked it. But I bet the tapes are there somewhere."

"Landscape videos. I bet those were big sellers."

"I was thinking about me and Johnny."

Daria's eyes twinkled with calculation. "Your dad videotaped John?"

"Yeah. I guess he was a cute kid."

* * *

Helen was surprised to find the living room dark when she got home from another wasted Saturday at the office. She saw Jake sitting on the sofa and walked up behind him. She noticed the video playing and said, "Oh, look at that cute little boy." She rubbed his shoulder. "And he grew up into such a handsome man."

Jake wordlessly held a martini in one hand and the remote in the other. When the tape showed the young Jake falling from his bike, Jake rewound the tape and restarted from the beginning of the scene.

"Honey?" Helen said. "Wouldn't you like a little more light in here?" After a couple seconds without reply, she said, "Okay dear, I'll be in the kitchen catching up on some things."

In the kitchen, John's two cats waited by their food bowls. Helen sighed and said, "I don't suppose you two have been fed." She grabbed a bag of food from a cupboard and poured some into the bowls. "I hope Daria and John are having better luck with their film project."

* * *

_You're an angel in black, you sure have a knack,  
for putting my heart on a shelf in the back,  
I'm waiting my turn, oh, when will I learn?   
My poor heart, you're giving it freezer burn.  
Yeah..._

Trent and Jesse cut into a lengthy, repetitive guitar riff to lengthen the sparsely-worded song. 

Cigarette smoke, accented with clove and marijuana, drifted past John and Daria while they filmed, secure behind the beer case barricade. Daria made a face at the smell and said, "Ugh. I hope it doesn't get any worse."

"Wait until the crowd starts dancing and you mix in some ripe sweat, cheap perfume and overpowering cologne," John replied, only half joking. 

"Charming. I'm sure the later accents of spilled beer and wine only add to the experience."

"You don't do well in crowded, smelly nightclubs, do you?"

"Let's just say it's not on my top ten list of things to do."

Trying to cheer her up, John said, "This way, you can say you've suffered for your art?"

"I'd rather somebody else suffer."

The guitar opus ended and Trent sang again.

_Now a devil in black, eyes open a crack,  
your icy cold heart's got me spread on a rack,  
I've waited my turn, oh, why won't I learn?  
My lost heart, you've saved it in an urn.  
Yeah..._

After a drum flourish from Max, Trent grabbed the microphone and said, "Hey, we're Mystik Spiral, though we still might change our name. We'll be back in an hour for our second set."

Daria stopped the recording and said, "They really write their own material?" 

"Yeah."

"Were they all dropped on their heads as babies?"

* * *

Endlessly repeating the same section of tape, Jake stayed on the sofa through the evening, getting up only to refill his martini. Helen stopped behind Jake, watching. After a couple replays, she sighed in resignation before going upstairs.

In the dim light, Zachary crept along the carpet, intent upon his target. At the edge of the sofa, the cat silently jumped to the edge and froze, eyes on Jake's reaction. Resuming his stalk, Zachary crouched low and slowly moved across the sofa to Jake. After a look up at his face, Zachary stretched over Jake's leg and settled down for a nap.

* * *

Jesse joining Trent in a duet didn't help matters during the next set.

_I'm glad you're happy watching my pain,  
burning crop circles on my soul's waves of grain.  
We had no love scene but you've cut to the chase,   
you're chopping off my nose to spite my face.  
Ow, my nose! Ow, my face!  
Ow, my nose! Ow, my face!  
Ow..._

"I have to admit, the second set has provided us with more, um, entertaining footage," Daria told John.

With the camcorder, John followed a drunken patron who walked into the bathroom door and bounced off. "Alcohol in other people is great, cheap entertainment."

After two additional tries, the drunk succeeded in getting into the bathroom. "Do you think he'll be confused when he doesn't find any urinals?" Daria asked. 

"Let's hope so, but I doubt it."

Daria shrugged and said, "But then, with the shape that bathroom's in, nobody would notice."

"That's why we call it the 'Slime Pit,'" Monique said, walking up to them. "And everyone learns the fine art of hovering."

The bathroom door flew open and the drunk was hurled out to land on his face. A woman's voice followed, yelling, "That's why there's a mirror in front of it!"

Belated, a bouncer arrived and picked up the drunk. "Okay, mate. Time for you to make a discreet exit." The bouncer carried the man to the side door and tossed him into the alley near the Tank. "Next time, show a little respect for the ladies."

Monique turned her attention back to John and Daria. "Hey, Trent and the guys are gonna head over to McGrundy's for a jam session after this." She glanced at Trent and said, "I'll give you a ride home."

"Yeah," John quickly said, "sounds like a plan."

"We'll leave right after the set." Monique spun and walked back into the crowd.

Daria asked, "Did I miss something?" 

Nodding, John said, "Monique's royally pissed at Trent about something. We don't want to be around at McGrundy's tonight. Civilians do get hit by the shrapnel."

"Ah. Another of their legendary fights?"

"Oh, yeah."

* * *

Quinn jumped out of a green car, waved a fast goodbye to the driver and rushed into her house. After closing the door, she said, "Ugh, Barnacle Benji's Barbeque Oyster Bar? That has got to be the worst…" 

She saw Jake still transfixed by the television, sipping from a martini with a cat on the sofa back, looking over his shoulder. Quinn started up the stairs, saying, "Um, I can tell you later."

* * *

"We've gotta make sure we send it off to TVM right way!" Max hollered to John and Daria as they got into Trent's car.

"Man, we shoulda used the fog machine," Jesse said. "It's cool." 

Nick said, "That thing's gonna blow up one of these days."

"Hey, yeah. Fog and the machine blowing up, that could work," Trent said.

John had barely closed the door when Monique said, "You in?"

"Um, yeah," Daria replied with trepidation.

Monique stomped on the gas and backed the Plymouth out of the alley and onto Dega St. She shifted into drive and spun a rear tire as she drove away.

Daria grabbed onto John's hand and the front seat as her face paled. He whispered, "She's not as dangerous as she looks." 

"Freakin' dammit!" The car skidded to a stop at a traffic light. "Bastard!"

Daria whispered, "It would be a bad idea to talk to her now, wouldn't it?"

"Very." 

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did we think this was a good idea?"

"Because the others were worse?"

"Next time, I'll let you blow something up."

A tight curve threw John against Daria as he said, "Sounds good, providing we live through this."

* * *

Monique parked in the Morgendorffer driveway. "Um, I hope I didn't scare you too much back there."

"I enjoyed watching my life pass in front of my eyes," Daria replied, holding John's hand painfully tight. "Well, except for the first fifteen years of it."

John said, "So, things improved this year?" 

"A miniscule amount."

After John and Daria got out, Monique said, "Daria, don't put up with any crap from him. John, if I ever hear you've been acting like your stupid brothers, I'm personally gonna kick your ass."

John looked down. "I'll remember that. Thanks for the ride." 

"Later. Now, I've got to go kick your brother's ass." Monique sped back down the driveway and onto the street without looking before roaring away.

Daria kissed John's cheek. "Nice to know I have some muscle to call on if you misbehave." 

"Considering she'd probably drag in the rest of the Harpies, call that real incentive."

Daria turned toward the front door. "That's weird, the house is dark." 

"You're right." John brightened. "Hey, maybe it's a sign they trust us a little more, not leaving a sentinel for us."

Static on the television screen lit the living room when they entered. John pointed to Jake on the sofa, snoring, with his head tilted back. "Or the sentinel's asleep. Think we should check on him?"

"We better. I don't like the look of that empty martini glass."

Closer, they saw that both cats were nestled on his lap and Jake's hands were resting on them. John placed the glass on the coffee table and used the remote to turn off the TV and VCR.

Daria shook her father's shoulder and said, "Dad? Are you all right?"

Jake's eyes flickered opened and he mumbled, "Huh?"

"Are you all right?"

"I had a boo-boo on my knee." 

John raised an eyebrow. "Boo-boo?"

"I fell off my bicycle."

Daria asked, "I hope you're talking about your old movies."

"Yeah. Did anyone care back then? No."

John scratched Taylor's head. "Somebody likes you now."

Placing his hands on Daria and John's shoulders, Jake said, "They sure do. You can't put a price on closeness like this."

Uncertain, Daria said, "Um, right, Dad."

Jake pulled them closer, so that they sat down on the sofa with him. He looked up and barked, "See! You never had this, old man!"

John quietly said to Daria, "When did parental bonding include ranting?" 

"My kids want to be near me! And the cats! Not like the dog biting little Jakey!"

To John, Daria said, "Only around here."

"And I want to be with them! You won't catch me sending any away to school! All three of my kids are staying here!"

Despite Jake's volume, John felt himself relax more about staying with the Morgendorffers. _All three…_

* * *

In his classroom, Mr. O'Neill was showing the completed student works. On the screen, Mack pulled Kevin away from a near-rioting group of strikers at the local Food Lord grocery store as Brittany jumped on one striker's back and pounded on him. The scene faded to the words, "The End. Though the fight for fair working conditions is never over."

Mr. O'Neill said, "Jodie, where did you learn to juggle symbolism like that?"

Clearly making it up on the spot to cover Kevin and Brittany's antics, Jodie said, "Um, I worked with storyboards. I think that helped."

Switching tapes, Mr. O'Neill said, "And now, a work by Daria and John." 

The movie started with the threadbare Mystik Spiral banner and a title fading into view, "A Hard Night's Zon." 

Driving his car, Trent looked over his shoulder, "We have a vision, man. Eyes on the prize."

Beside him, Monique said, "How about eyes on the road?" as the car approached a busy intersection.

"Um, oh yeah." Trent looked back and braked hard to stop at the red light. "Good catch."

* * *

Behind Trent, Max balanced a wobbly armload of loose drum kit parts. As he stepped down from the stage, a set of cymbals fell with a clang. Jesse picked up electrical cables and wadded them together while Nick looked on, shaking his head. Trent said, "Focus and dedication, man. That's how we're gonna do it."

"The End," faded into view as the screen went black.

"Wow," Mr. O'Neill said. "What a statement on the hard work behind success." 

The class bell rang and everyone began filing out of the room. Jodie stopped John and Daria, saying, "That movie really kicked butt."

"To be precise, that's what Monique did to my brother after we were done," John said.

Jodie added, "I mean it. It takes a lot of guts to get on stage when you suck that bad."

"Or just be oblivious," Daria suggested.

* * *

Daria cracked a sly, understated smile when she read the return address on the thick envelope. She pulled a tab to open it and removed a videotape. 

"What's that? Bootleg _Sick, Sad World_?" John asked as Daria headed directly for the television.

"Something better." In one motion, Daria lifted the remote from the coffee table and had the TV and VCR on before she reached them.

"In that case, I'll grab a couple sodas from the fridge and be right back."

When he returned to the living room with the drinks, John stopped in shock when he saw the television. A three year-old boy with unruly, black hair sat on the floor with both hands buried in a bucket of clay. He grinned as he brought up two handfuls that oozed between his small fingers.

Daria looked over her shoulder and held up the envelope for John to see the return address. 

_Amanda Lane  
300 Colony Rd. Cabin C  
Ashfield, PA_

She nodded her head toward the TV. "Isn't he cute?"

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

Dialog from Monster by Neena Beber  
_Ice Box Woman_ from _Road Worrier_ by Anne D. Bernstein  
_Ow, My Nose_ from _Ill_ by Peter Gaffney 

December 2005.


	14. Fairly Illuminated

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the fourteenth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Fairly Illuminated**

Feeling wrung-out by the previous weekend, Jodie Landon set her lunch tray down across the table from Daria Morgendorffer and John Lane. The attractive and overworked black teen looked straight into Daria's brown eyes. "You should be on your knees thanking your father."

Daria asked, "Grove Hills was that bad?"

"The student guides wore their smugness and arrogance like merit badges. You probably would've killed one, I almost did."

"I wouldn't do that," Daria said. "I'd leave them maimed so they could suffer longer." 

John whistled. "You lost it on a one-day visit? That's scary."

"Being saved by Dad ranting about his father and swearing not to send any of us away to school, that's scary," Daria added.

"You should still thank him," Jodie said. "And you owe me. Nobody should face that place alone."

"Your parents shouldn't have taken you there without a bodyguard," Daria returned.

"Daria, you also better walk softly around Ms. Li. She's annoyed that you snubbed the visit and that I told Grove Hills where they could stuff it. She's looking for excuses; some of your columns haven't gone down too well. Maybe if you diversified a bit."

Daria stared back at Jodie. "I'm not joining yearbook. Being on the newspaper staff is already more extracurriculars than I want."

Jodie tried again. "We really need another photographer. John, what about you?"

"No way. With how my father used to develop prints in the bathroom, I figure I've been exposed to enough chemicals already."

Sighing, Jodie nodded. "If you reconsider, let me know."

* * *

Seated with her family around the dinner table, Helen said, "That's just horrible about the library roof. I understand that there were a couple students in there when it happened. Are they all right?"

Daria said, "It was Kevin and Brittany. They were making out off to one side and didn't notice until the rescue crew came up to look for them."

"At least they weren't hurt."

"They weren't even embarrassed," Daria said with a shake of her head.

"There goes one of your last retreats on campus," John said.

"But, it did give me material for my next column in the _Lowdown._

John asked, "Ignoring Jodie's advice?"

"Not letting it affect my decision. The roof of the library fell in. How can I not say something about that? I'm sure the money Ms. Li's been spending on security could have been put to good use for building maintenance."

Helen cautiously said, "Maybe you should have considered Grove Hills a little more."

Daria saw Jake starting to bristle and said, "If the place could make somebody like Jodie tell them off, what do you think would happen to me?"

"Oh my," Helen said. "Jodie?" 

"See," Jake said in triumph. "I was right! I told you those boarding schools were no good! Maybe we should make sure the kids stay here for college. Some of those…"

Daria cut in with, "Dad, let's not go too far."

"But look at all the advantages you'll have! No dorm room…no dirty, stinking, lousy, tobacco chewing roommates…"

Daria raised an eyebrow. "Dad, I don't…"

"No cafeteria food…"

"Okay, that's probably a plus." 

"When you can have my cooking!"

"Um…" 

Helen reached over to Jake. "Honey, we don't need to think about that right now. We have a little time to consider." 

"No out-of-state tuition. Just think of…" 

"Jake!" Helen grabbed his wrist. "Not now." 

"Oh!" Jake's excitement cooled. "Oh, yeah, sure. We can talk about it later."

* * *

At the front of his English class a couple days later, Mr. O'Neill asked, "Now, why do you think it is that Tolstoy felt he had to make _War and Peace _so darned...unpleasant? Daria?" 

Daria answered, "So no one would pester him to do a sequel?"

While Mr. O'Neill was trying to digest the answer, Ms. Li marched in unannounced.

She said, "Good morning, young people. I have a very sad announcement. The library will be closed until further notice."

Daria quietly said, "After all, it was the least used building in the school." 

Ms. Li went on to say, "To raise money for repairs, the school will be presenting a medieval fair, simulating life in the middle ages."

Kevin grinned and said, "Cool." 

Ms. Li leaned on Daria's desk. "Volunteers are desperately needed. Those who refuse to volunteer must voluntarily purchase a ticket for ten dollars or voluntarily face suspension." She looked directly at Daria. "There are special options open to some students." Ms. Li stood up straight, said, "Have a nice day," and left just as quickly as she entered.

John said, "Boy, is she mad."

"No kidding. That has got to be one of the stupidest things I've heard of, and now I have to be in the middle of it."

* * *

"Wow, John-O, this stuff is really good," Jake mumbled around a mouthful of dinner.

"Um, thanks Mr. Morgendorffer," John said. "Just trying to help." 

Daria raised her right eyebrow at him.

He whispered back, "By keeping your Dad from cooking."

Talking to her mother, Quinn said, "So I thought, if I have to volunteer anyway, I might as well do something that challenges me as a teen and maybe bring some joy into the drab lives of others who are less popular. So, they'll have this dinner theater with a play by this guy, Ken Barry, and I'm going to audition for 'Emily,' the really cute sister." She attempted a faux-stage voice, saying "Preserve me from the vengeance..."

Helen smiled widely and said, "That's great, honey. Daria, what will you be doing at the fair?"

Silent, Daria stated at her dinner plate.

Helen glared at her daughter. "Daria…I asked you a question." 

Through gritted teeth, Daria said, "Selling authentic reproduction manuscript pages and scrolls."

"That sounds fascinating. John, what are you doing?"

"Who do you think is making the 'authentic reproduction manuscript pages and scrolls'?"

"It's so nice to see all of you getting involved."

* * *

Quinn leaned on Daria's doorframe. "What are you up to?"

Seated next to John and watching TV on her bed, Daria said, "Nothing."

"Come on, Daria. You…and John…volunteered to help with the medieval fair? You've got to be planning something. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine, just please don't do it near the play. Okay?"

Daria rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Quinn, we didn't volunteer, we were volunteered."

"Huh?"

John said, "Drafted."

Daria said, "Li gave me the choice of 'volunteering' or being transferred from the newspaper to the yearbook staff. Since the newspaper is a bit overstaffed with me on it and Jodie's been desperately looking for a photographer for yearbook, Li can get away with it."

"Quinn asked, "So what's wrong with yearbook?"

"I don't know, but Jodie's been desperate for a photographer for a couple weeks. Something's scaring kids off and I don't want to find out first-hand."

Quinn nodded, understanding Ms. Li's machinations. She grinned at John. "So, stepping in to be with your lady fair?"

He lightly blushed.

"Ah-ha." 

John said, "I didn't really try to resist, but I was….close enough…to Daria to also be volunteered."

* * *

Sitting in the back seat of Jake's Lexus, Quinn practiced her lines. "I will make a dainty garland for my head and sing. I will make a dainty garland for my head and sing. I will make a dainty garland for my head and sing."

Tired of hearing the repeated phrase, Daria said, "With a hey-nonny-nonny, tra-la, tra-la. Would you give it a rest?"

Quinn pouted. "I have to rehearse."

"You should've done that already."

In the passenger seat, Helen asked, "Daria, John, you can't go dressed like that. Is the school providing you costumes like they are for Quinn?"

John said, "Yeah. Ms. Li got a local re-enactor group to loan us a bunch of stuff." 

"That was nice of them."

Daria said, "Though some of the fragrances the clothes had before washing would make you wonder about the nice part."

"Oh, well, I'm sure it was the thought that counts." Helen looked to her other daughter. "Quinn, I hope the other girls weren't too disappointed that you got the part over them."

Quinn said, "Well, let's see. Sandi was really nice about it. She said she's too mature to get upset at somebody else's incredible, unbelievable, undeserved luck. And Brittany just kind of made noises."

"Just make sure she's not targeting you; she's still leery of the 'Morgendorffer temptresses'," John warned. "Trying to teach Kevin to be more attentive is a lost cause."

"He must be doing something better," Quinn replied. "Brittany volunteered to drive him so he could work on his lines."

Daria asked, "Did she volunteer to get him a dainty transplant for his head so he could remember them?"

Jake jerked the car to one side to avoid a red sports car making too close of a pass. He shouted, "Damn kids!" 

John looked at the offending vehicle and said, "Wasn't that Brittany's car?"

Quinn said, "Can't be; it went right past the turn to school."

* * *

Quinn, Daria and John entered the corner of the gymnasium and saw a blonde girl, early twenties, seated behind a long table holding folded costumes. She brightly said, "Hi there. What costumes do you need?"

Quinn said, "Hi, I'm doing Emily in the play."

"Oh, yes. It's such a pretty dress." The woman handed Quinn a pink costume with appliqué roses and white fur trim.

"Thanks," Quinn said and rushed to the auditorium dressing room.

John said, "Um, I'm making the fake manuscripts and stuff."

The woman handed him a drab brown robe and a rope belt.

He asked, "What's this?"

"It's a monk's robe. They were the ones that did the calligraphy and stuff back then." 

Leaving his regular clothes in place, John pulled the robe over his shoulders and shrugged. "Hmm. Hides everything else, looks like I'm good to go."

Daria said, "I'm doing the sales with him."

She was handed a pile of black and white fabric that included a wimple. Daria asked, "And what's this?"

"A nun's habit. Seems to make sense to go with a monk." The woman winked. "If you know what I mean." 

Daria stared back. "You're kidding. Me? In a nun's habit?"

"You'll look so cute. Besides, we don't have anything left that'll fit you. You can change in the locker room."

"Just add insult to injury, why don't you?"

* * *

Without difficulty, John found the pop-up pavilion that was to be his and Daria's booth. The yellow canvas cover had faux dagging along the lower edge created by painting a red trim outline and the apparent voids between dags black. The aluminum support posts were painted tan with a weak attempt at simulated wood grain on them. 

He set up his wooden drawing table and stacked supplies on a shorter table next to his chair. He removed a handful of colored marker pens with the bodies painted black from a box. He fitted a feather into a hole in the back of each and placed the markers aside. Next, he took a modified calligraphy pen and fitted a feather onto it, setting it in a pot of ink on the flat top of the desk just above the angled drawing surface.

Daria arrived carrying a wooden cash box. "Wow, doesn't this place just look authentic." 

John grinned and said, "I guess if you stand ten paces away and squint, it looks okay."

"And I take my glasses off."

"Then don't look too closely at what I'm doing."

Daria looked at the stack of pages also on the side table. "Are those photocopies?"

"I had enough time to toss five plates from a book on calligraphy and illumination on an opaque projector and trace the outlines. I photocopied those onto fake parchment and I'll add color with markers."

"Do you really think people will buy them?"

"Never underestimate the public's lack of taste."

"What about the scrolls?"

"I pre-lined some blank parchment paper and I can do those by hand real quick. I taught myself calligraphy during…" John scratched his head, trying to remember. "…my third time through self-esteem class."

"Where'd you get the feathers?"

"Ms. DeFoe picked them up at a craft store. They're dyed chicken feathers."

A faint snicker came from the next booth. Daria and John looked to see Jodie, dressed in blue and hiding her laugh with her hand.

Daria said, "I suppose I deserve that."

Jodie said, "I must say, I've never pictured you dressed like that."

John said, "And I never pictured you wearing an oversized dunce cap."

Jodie shook her head. "You got me."

"Let me guess," Daria said. "You were the only one Ms. Li trusted with the information booth."

Nodding, Jodie said, "Yes." 

"I'm almost afraid of what Mack got stuck with," John said.

Jodie pointed across the grounds to a fake cave, where Mack, in a poorly-fitting dragon suit, was being pummeled by a bunch of children swinging padded swords. "It was Ms. Barch's idea."

"Ouch," John said as Mack recoiled from some the blows of a pair of older boys. "Aren't those two a little old?"

Jodie said, "They're Sandi Griffin's little brothers. They make her look like an angel."

John flinched and looked away. "I hope he's got a cup on under that suit."

* * *

Mrs. Johansson looked at one of the reproduction pages. "Can I get this framed?"

John shrugged and said, "Sure."

"Will it fit in a standard frame like they sell at S-Mart?"

"Make sure it's a document frame and not for photo sizes."

"Okay, I'll buy it." The portly woman removed money from her purse and handed it to Daria.

"Thank you, ma'am," Daria said as she accepted the money and placed it in her cash box. After the woman left, she told John, "I never would've thought we'd sell so many."

"Like I said, never underestimate the public's taste."

Dressed as a jester and carrying a lute, Upchuck appeared and said, "Hmm. Now I know how 'Get thee to a nunnery' can be so appealing."

John looked up from his drawing table. Daria had stood and was leaning toward Upchuck with a smoldering glare in her eyes.

The red-headed boy blinked and stepped back. The motion of another student caught his eye and he turned to say, "Hey! Andrea! Do you like madrigals?" before he ran after the girl in a grey shirt and long black skirt. 

Andrea cocked her arm back and said, "Don't touch me, you Howdy-Doody-looking creep."

John said to Daria, "I hope you never look at me like that."

"Don't give me a reason to."

A flash of light startled both of them. While they were trying to recover their eyesight, a blond boy with glasses said, "Wow, that's going to make a great shot for the yearbook. Hi, I'm Ted."

John set his pen down. "I'm not gonna get anything done until that giant purple spot's gone." 

"Do you normally greet people by blinding them?" Daria said while blinking.

Confused, Ted said, "What do you mean? Oh, the flash. That's so I can get good pictures." 

"And here I thought it was your tribe's ritual greeting."

"Tribe's ritual greeting? Oh, no, I live right here…Oh wow, you were using hyperbole."

John quipped, "Damn, that boy's quick."

"And sarcasm!"

Jodie called over, "Daria, John, that's Ted DeWitt-Clinton. He's the photo-editor for the yearbook." 

Ted's eye's brightened. "Daria? Morgendorffer?" 

Hesitant, Daria said, "Yes."

"Wow. I love your columns in the _Lowdown._"

"Well, um, thanks."

"The way you write about the dark and disreputable parts of school."

"They're not hard to find."

"Gosh, they almost make me wish I'd stayed home-schooled."

"Home-schooled?"

"Yeah. My parents were real worried about sending me here, but I convinced them I should get to experience a normal school for a little while. So I can understand what everyone else has gone through."

John raised an eyebrow. "Normal school?"

A brunette woman leading a young girl walked up to the booth. "Excuse me, I understand you do hand-written scrolls?"

Daria told Ted, "Excuse me." She faced the woman. "Yes, we do." 

"Could I have one done that says, 'I name thee: world's greatest daughter?"

The little girl smiled up at her mother.

John rubbed his eyes. "I can have it ready in about fifteen minutes, plus another five for the ink to dry." 

The woman looked at a watch and said, "I'll take one, then. I'll be back in twenty minutes. We just have time to dunk the witch in the pool."

After the customer walked away, Ted said, "Daria, your writing made me realize that there were other people at Lawndale that sometimes felt as out of place as I am." 

John pulled out a blank parchment paper and started writing, while listening to Ted. It must be my imagination.

Daria shuffled back a step. "Um, yeah. You could say I feel a little alienated around here."

Ted stepped up to the edge of the booth. "That's what's so amazing. It's like you knew how outcast I felt."

John looked over with one eye. _Is he trying to come on to Daria?_

Daria nervously toyed with the cash box. "I was really only saying what I felt and observed."

"It's the same way I feel!" He laughed and said, "Isn't that kind of funny? Kind of like we were two of a kind or something."

_Okay, that's it._ John stood, stretched and stepped behind Daria, placing one hand around her waist.

Daria quickly whispered to him, "What are you doing?"

John said, "Ted, I bet you could get some neat shots of guys jousting with the Black Knight." 

Distracted, Ted looked around. "Where?"

John pointed to a raised platform, where Mr. DeMartino stood, tapping a padded-tip lance against his black-armored hand.

"Neat! Those aren't very good representations of real weapons, but I could get some nice action shots. Hey, do you think they'll let me try?" 

Catching John's idea, Daria said, "If you pay the fee, I'm sure Ms. Li will."

Ted grinned in return and rushed toward the platform. "I can try out my techniques from the sixteenth century manual!"

Daria looked around and gave John a quick kiss. "Thank you."

"No problem." 

"Just don't make a habit of it."

"He was starting to get creepy."

"He was creepy, but I didn't need you butting antlers like a deer during mating season to deal with him."

"Might I remind you that you aren't exactly the best one at dealing with jealousy, either?"

"Oh, um…maybe we need to work on this jealously thing a bit more." 

"Might be a good idea."

Daria looked at Jodie. "No wonder you haven't been able to keep photographers." 

Jodie sheepishly smiled. "Well…yeah. He's really a nice guy, just kind of…different."

"And as oblivious as my brother," John added. "He was making moves on Daria right in front of me."

"I don't think that he's ever been on a date. He probably didn't realize you were Daria's boyfriend, and he may not have realized how he sounded. Uh, oh. Daria, it looks like your folks are coming over."

John released Daria and she took a step forward.

"Hi Daria, hi John. I brought you some lunch," Helen said, carrying two plates. Each held a wad of hamburger roasted on a stick and decorated with two raisins placed like eyes. "Hi, Jodie. How was the trip to Grove Hills?"

"It was an interesting place," Jodie said with a forced smile. "But I think I fit better here, at Lawndale."

"Oh, that's too bad. I still hope Daria's not missing out on anything."

"Trust me, Mrs. Morgendorffer, Daria didn't miss a thing."

Chewing on one of the food objects himself, Jake said, "This rat-on-a-stick is really good. Think I should try some at home?" 

Daria looked at her plate. "What an appealing name. I think you should buy a couple for Quinn."

John held his up. "Hmm. Looks like what you get when you cross a corndog with a hamburger and leave out the bread." He bit into it. "Protein, grease and salt. Three of the four food groups."

Jake noticed Daria's garb. "You look just like the teachers in Dad's old elementary school photos."

Daria tilted her head toward Jake. "Elementary school?"

Jake chuckled. "Bet you could scare the tar out of him, too. He hated that place almost as much as I hated military school."

_All the more reason I'm glad Daria didn't get sent to that gifted school,_ John thought, realizing how much he and Daria had dodged a potentially explosive bullet.

Jake raised his fist. "Come on, old man! Face your granddaughter now!"

Helen shook his arm, hard. "Jake! Calm down. You're making a scene." 

"It's not like I could be humiliated any more than I already am," Daria said.

Helen said, "Well, kids. Have a good time. I'm going to meet Linda Griffin over at the archery range for a little friendly competition. After that, we'll go to see Quinn's show."

"Bye," Daria said. "Try to sit real close so she can see you."

"Oh, Daria. You are being supportive of your sister. Thank you."

After Helen and Jake left, John started laughing. "Quinn's gonna try to kill you if she finds out you said that."

"She can try…"

* * *

The brunette woman paid Daria and said, "That is so pretty. Thank you." She gave the page to the little girl. "Here you go, darling."

The girl grabbed the parchment and skipped away, happy. Her mother trotted to follow.

Crying loudly, Quinn's Fashion Club friend Stacy came up. She dropped a handkerchief from her face, showing streaked and runny mascara. "Please, can you let me stay behind your booth? I don't want anyone to see my eyes. They're this really weird shade of red." 

Daria said, "Stacy, we don't have anyplace you can hide. Perhaps you can…"

Stacy bawled again. "I even wore my crushed velvet top with the scooped neck for Brett. He said he'd call back and now he won't even look at me! If only you were popular enough to understand."

Limping and dragging his padded lance, Mr. DeMartino walked past, loudly grumbling. "Stupid miserable ringer! Growf!"

Puzzled, John said, "I wonder what happened to him?"

"Who cares what happened to a teacher!" Stacy screeched. "I'm having a dating crisis here!"

Grinning widely, Ted bounced over. "That was so much fun! I really got to try out those medieval lance techniques. I almost felt like a knight. I hope Mr. DeMartino wasn't hurt too badly. I'd like to try that again."

Still in her own world, Stacy cried, "Was it something I said? Did I wear the wrong thing?"

A brief, faint smile crossed Daria's face and she said, "Ted, you said you almost felt like a knight?"

"Yeah!"

Daria gestured a hand toward Stacy. "There's a lady in distress. Don't you think you should do something? Maybe she can be your inspiration the next time you joust."

Ted stood confused for a second. He then pulled a clean, white handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Stacy. "Will this help?"

Stacy saw Brett walking along across the fair ground. She smiled at Ted. "Why, thank you. What's your name?"

"Um, I'm Ted."

"Hi, I'm Stacy."

She took Ted's hand and led him away.

John crossed his arms and gazed proudly at Daria. "That was evil." 

"But, a necessary one," Daria said, another brief smile on her lips.

* * *

"Hmm. The crowd's thinned out," Daria observed. "Either the play's started or the heat's getting to everyone." 

"I'll take either," John said, pushing back from his table. "Being an art slave sucks."

Daria rattled the cash box. "I can't believe those guys paid with Susie B dollars."

"You've got to admit that they're less out-of-place than paper money."

"Yeah, but a five's a lot easier to handle."

"But not a fifty, huh?'

Daria rolled her eyes. "I wish he'd shown up after the coin guys. Wiping me out of smaller bills would have been a good excuse to unload the coins on him."

"Rrrowrr." Upchuck loathsomely purred as he came around the corner of the pavilion. "Perhaps you'd like to show this Galahad your grail-shaped lantern?"

Daria picked up one of John's portable drawing boards and waved it toward Upchuck. "How'd you like to finish this quote?" She imitated a monastic chant, saying, "_Pia, Jesu Domine...dona eis requiem…_" 

Upchuck turned, said, "Run away!" and sprinted across the grounds.

John laughed. "That got rid of him." 

"Only temporarily. I'd like to bury Upchuck in this dress."

* * *

Costume tail dragging on the ground behind him, Mack wandered over to the information booth. "Hey."

Jodie smiled and hugged him across the counter. "Holding up?" 

Mack grumbled, "Barely. Little monsters."

"I'm sorry."

"I've got bruises in places I didn't know I had."

"Just keep telling yourself it's for a good cause."

"I have been." Mack turned to Daria. "How would you like to write about the dragon's view of knights coming to kill him?"

Daria answered, "That should give Mr. O'Neill a shudder or two. Thanks."

Gesturing to the other side of the information booth, Jodie said, "Why don't you try it now? I just saw him stop to get his fortune told by Ms. Barch."

All four peered over and saw that Ms. Barch's booth was closed and muffled sounds came from it. Eyes wide, they looked at each other and shivered.

John said, "Let's not do that again."

"Agreed," Jodie replied and moved her stool away from the offending sounds.

Mack half-leaned against the counter. "I saw the strangest thing a while ago. The photographer guy from the yearbook, Ted, with Stacy Rowe."

Jodie pointed to Daria. "You can thank the twisted yenta next door for that."

Surprised, Mack said, "That's like throwing a lamb into a pack of wolves."

"He left Mr. DeMartino limping," John said. "He's tougher than he looks."

"Would you want to be thrown to the Fashion Club?" Mack pointedly asked.

John exhaled roughly and admitted, "Uh…no."

Mack rubbed his side. "I don't care what Ms. Barch says, I'm getting out of this stupid suit before one of those little brats really kills me." 

Mack waved and walked to the gymnasium locker rooms. "I'll be back later."

* * *

The sounds inside the fortune teller's booth stopped. Looking rumpled, Mr. O'Neill snuck out of the back and made a straight path for the auditorium. He was followed by an equally rumpled Ms. Barch, who left her booth after an obvious pause to make it look like they were not together.

Daria shivered again at the sight. Jodie nodded in understanding while saying, "Talk about effective."

Soon after, two of Quinn's regular followers, Joey and Jamie, walked by. Jamie snickered and said, "The Pardoner. Quinn's gonna kill Jeffy."

Daria watched the two and quietly said, "I wonder…John, how certain are you about seeing Brittany's car?"

"I was pretty certain, but like Quinn said, it drove right by the school entrance." 

Daria asked, "Jodie, have you seen Brittany or Kevin today?"

She said, "No."

Daria said, "John, can you watch things for a couple minutes?"

"What for?"

Jodie's eyes opened wide. "No. Jamie's not that smart."

Daria said, "I'd agree. But, if somehow he found out, I could see Jamie looking for the 'juicy parts' of the _Canterbury Tales._"

Jodie said, "So, if Kevin's not here…"

John said, "And Mr. O'Neill grabbed someone for a stand-in..."

Daria said, "I better go," pulled up the edge of her dress a couple inches so she could move better, and headed toward the auditorium.

A couple minutes later, a girl named Jennifer rushed from the auditorium to Jodie and said, "There's a riot in there!" 

"Oh, no! I better find Ms. Li," Jodie said, clearly worried.

Jennifer ran away, leaving Jodie looking around. She spotted Andrea walking nearby and called, "Andrea!" 

Half-bored, Andrea swerved over to the booth. "What's up?"

"Can you watch the booth for a while? There's a riot or something in the auditorium. I need to find Ms. Li." 

"Got a chair in there?"

"A stool." 

"Deal."

"Thanks." Jodie stepped out of the booth and rushed toward Mr. DeMartino's Black Knight platform, where she remembered seeing Ms. Li announcing.

Andrea sat down and put her hands behind her head. "Wow. Nobody's ever left me in charge of anything before."

John asked, "Care to watch two booths?"

"Why not? Expand my empire." 

"Thanks!" John said and he ran for the auditorium entrance that Daria had used.

A pair of children stopped and one asked Andrea, "Why aren't you wearing a costume?"

"I hocked it to pay off my bookie."

* * *

"Don't worry, Skinny," John could hear Ms. Barch say. "I'll go calm those Neanderthals down."

Closer to the stage wing, he saw Mr. O'Neill standing and sobbing into his hands. A loud roar came from the audience and John could see the set littered with thrown turkey drumsticks.

He spun around, trying to locate Daria in the darkened backstage area.

Ms. Barch's voice carried from out front, "Hii-yah!" A rapid series of wet thumps followed her war cry.

John moved toward the dressing rooms and heard Quinn say, "Oooh! I'm not going out with that Jesse for at least a month!"

He followed the sound and he heard Daria say, "That's Jamie."

"Whatever!" 

John found them in the hall outside the girl's dressing room. He said, "Sounds pretty bad out there. I hope your folks had the sense to get out of it."

Quinn gulped and quietly said, "Dad kind of…started it."

Daria's head dropped back and she looked up. "I'm not breaking into the Montana Cabin Fund to bail him out."

"I'm going to try to find them," John said. "Hopefully, your mother's been able to point him toward an exit. Before you say anything, I'm going to do my damnedest not to get pummeled in the riot. I don't like pain." 

At the stage wing door, John found Ms. Barch slumped against the wall amid a pile of drumsticks. Mr. O'Neill knelt beside her, wiping turkey grease off of her face.

Many people were still scattered among the auditorium seats, throwing food and other loose items, as well as the occasional fist or kick. From his vantage point, John saw where Helen and Jake hunkered down on the edge of a side aisle, unnoticed by the other rioters. Not far away, he saw Ted swinging two drumsticks like short swords, brushing people out of the way while Stacy nervously followed him. _That just might work._

John jumped down the wing stairs and used his running speed to avoid the melee. He squatted next to Helen and said, "Follow me."

"What do you mean?"

"Trust me, please. I saw a way to get us out of here."

Jake asked, "Where's the girls?"

"Backstage. Come on!"

Pushing them, he nudged Helen and Jake along the aisle until they fell into position behind Stacy. John said, "Follow the girl with pigtails."

Helen said, "Isn't that Quinn's friend?"

"Yeah, just follow."

Taking advantage of Ted's skills to clear a path, they followed him out of the auditorium. Near the exit, Helen paused and grinned. She snatched a loose drumstick from the floor and threw it quickly.

"There, Linda. Now you don't look so smug," Helen quipped and slipped out of the building.

* * *

John extended his hand to Ted. "We took advantage of the path you cleared to get out. I want to thank you."

"John, right? I saw you back there. No problem. Hey, will you see Daria?" 

"Um, yeah."

"Tell her, 'thank you.' I've had a great time today with Stacy."

Stacy looked down. "Um, yeah. Could you thank her for me, too?"

John nodded and quickly said, "Sure, I'll tell her."

Ted and Stacy each said, "Bye," and wandered off into the crowd.

John noticed that a group of police officers were gathering outside the auditorium, with Ms. Li shrieking at them. 

John said to Jake and Helen, "The backstage entrance is around this way. Mr. and Mrs. Morgendorffer, if you ask me, it's time to call it a day and get out of here."

As they walked along the sidewalk, Helen put a hand on John's shoulder. "John, thank you for getting us out. I doubt if you'll ever be comfortable calling us Mom and Dad, but please, call us Jake and Helen."

* * *

John got into the back seat of the car and sat down next to Daria with a sigh. "Finally dropped the cash box off with Ms. Li. A lot of parents are taking their kids home. The Landons had already taken Jodie home, so Ms. Li didn't say anything about us leaving."

Helen said, "She better not."

John scratched his neck and said, "I'm glad to get out of that itchy robe."

Daria nudged his rib and whispered, "You're glad? You had clothes on under that. I'm itching in a lot more places."

Jake said, "Too bad about your play, Quinn." His voice changed to a shout, "Lousy, stinking flop-hatted…"

Helen snapped, "Jake! Enough." 

"But, he threw the first leg."

Quieter, Helen said, "You stood up for your daughter. Just think about that."

"Oh, um, okay."

"And our son got us out of that awful building."

Daria and Quinn looked at Helen, and then at John.

He blushed and said, "It was enlightened self-interest."

Hopeful, Daria said, "Mom? Do you mean that?"

"Yes, Sweetie. John's just as much family as you are."

Still getting used to it, John said, "Thanks, Helen."

* * *

Some dialog from _Fair Enough_ by Peggy Nicoll 

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

January 2006


	15. Ring of Champions

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the fifteenth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Ring of Champions**

"'Focus on Agility' my ass," Daria Morgendorffer grumbled as she walked through a hallway at Lawndale High School. "Ms. Morris is passing off cheerleader practice as gym class."

Walking beside her, John Lane said, "Gee, and all I'm getting is an extra forty minutes of track practice."

"I hate it. And because I didn't participate, I have detention."

"That sucks." 

"Come on, do I look like a cheerleader?"

_I wouldn't mind seeing you in the uniform._ "That would be one of the last things I'd expect you to do," John replied.

"I don't see how you can stand Ms. Morris as the track coach."

"I still imagine running up and down her spine wearing track spikes." 

"You've probably drawn it, too."

"Nope. Don't want any evidence lying around. But when I graduate…it's another story."

Two of their classmates were stopped in the hall, talking. Kevin Thompson said, "Yo! How come you look so down, Mack Daddy?"

Mack MacKenzie replied, "Don't call me that. I think I screwed up that ethics test today. How'd you do?"

Smarmy, Kevin answered, "Pretty good." 

"Wait a minute." Mack did a double-take. "You weren't even there today. You cut class on the day of a midterm?" 

"I was excused. I didn't have to take the test. Coach talked to the teacher, and I got by."

Disgusted, Mack said, "You mean you got 'a bye'."

"Yeah, that's it. Coach says I gotta maintain a 'C' average to stay on the team, so he took care of it or something."

"Hey, that's not fair. I'm on the team and I had to study." 

Matter-of-factly, Kevin explained, "I'm the Q.B., Mack Daddy."

Mack yelled, "I've told you a million times, don't call me that! When are you going to get it through your thick skull already?" Mack spun and walked away clenching his fists.

Daria said, "Did you hear that?"

"Whoever said life was fair?" John said in return.

"I don't know, but I'll bet he was a quarterback."

John put his hands in his pockets. "You know, I had this weird anxiety dream where we had this pop quiz in math that I was totally unprepared for."

Daria smirked. "Were you in your underwear?" 

"No. That's how I figured out it wasn't a dream." 

"Uh-oh. Not a great score on the quiz?"

John shook his head. "My straight 'C' average in math is now in serious danger of becoming a 'D.' So I'm off to study hall. I don't even want to consider what your mother might do if I get thrown off the track team for academic ineligibility."

"Trust me, she'll find something for you to do. So, you better study and I'll go sit in detention."

* * *

Helen folded her arms and looked at her daughter and foster son. Curious, she asked, "Why did you two get home late from school?"

Daria sighed. "I had detention because I refused to participate in cheerleader practice during gym. John waited for me."

Helen immediately became suspicious. "I'm supposed to believe that? Cheerleader practice during gym class. Right."

"Hey," John interjected. "Why don't you ask Quinn what they're doing during class? The freshmen get the same thing."

"After you've already had a chance to buy her off? What have you two really been up to? I've come to expect an honest explanation from you two. I'm very disappointed."

"I had detention." 

"Okay, what for?"

"I told you. Because I didn't want to join Ms. Morris's cheerleader practice." 

"Daria, I'm finding that explanation hard to believe." 

"Why don't I ask Ms. Morris to call you tomorrow?" Daria suggested. "She can confirm I had detention. But I'll warn you, she calls it 'Focus on Agility'."

"All right. I'll hold off on any punishment until then, though this better not be a delaying tactic."

* * *

In Helen's law office the next morning, her secretary Marianne put the phone on hold and said, "Helen, it's your daughter's teacher."

"Oh, God. Which one, which teacher, and what did the offender do, or forget to do, this time?"

"Um, Daria. P.E. Teacher. Given detention for not participating in class."

"I was expecting it, put the call through." Helen picked up her telephone and pressed the button for the held line. "Hello, this is Helen Morgendorffer. I understand my daughter was given detention for not participating in class yesterday."

In her office, Ms. Morris said, "That's correct. She refused to participate in agility training, so I gave her detention."

"She was under the impression that the class was a cheerleader practice." 

"I assure you Mrs. Morgendorffer, while certain moves are similar, it is agility training."

"I see. I'm curious as to why she thought it was cheerleading practice." 

"There's no telling with kids today. As strange as this is to say from knowing his older siblings, I keep hoping that your foster child John's good attitude will rub off on Daria. He's the most focused and determined runner I've got on the team. I'd like to see a smart young lady like her develop that drive."

Helen nodded. "Well, I'll see what I can do. Thank you for your time, Ms. Morris."

"Thank you, Mrs. Morgendorffer. Oh, our first track meet is next Wednesday after school. Will you be able to attend?"

"I'll have to check to schedule to see if I'm supposed to be in court then. But I'll be there if I'm free." 

"I understand. Have a nice day, Mrs. Morgendorffer." 

"You too. Bye."

* * *

Helen sat down on her daughter's bed and said, "Your detention checks out, so you're off the hook on that charge. But, I'm still not buying this 'cheerleader practice' excuse. Can you please tell me why you didn't participate?"

Hiding her irritation, Daria said, "We're doing things like splits and cartwheels or similar activities. You know I'm not that coordinated. I don't enjoy it and it's a painful experience. But trust me, I've learned my lesson. I'll go out there and suffer my proper humiliation in the name of physical fitness."

"It's something we all suffer through, Sweetie." Helen looked out the window for a moment. "But, I'd suggest not mentioning it to your father." 

"Trust me, I won't."

"I'll consider the detention as school punishment enough…this time. However, I expect you to participate in the future. Am I clear?" 

"Crystal."

Helen stood back up and said, "Good. Dinner will be ready in a little while." She left and headed down the hallway, stopping at John's room.

She knocked and after a couple seconds, John answered with a paintbrush held sideways in his mouth while he wiped his hands. "Hmm?" 

Helen said, "I talked with Ms. Morris today. She's very impressed with how motivated you are about the track team. I just wanted to say I'm proud of you."

John pulled the brush free to say, "Thanks."

"Anyway, you two are off the hook; the detention checked out."

"That's good to hear."

Helen nodded and went downstairs. John watched and said to himself, "Of course I'm motivated."

* * *

John gazed at the stands as he walked to his starting blocks. He spotted all of the Morgendorffers seated together. The cell phone in Helen's hand brought a smile. Quinn wore a wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses to protect herself from the sun, and maybe to hide a bit. Jake read through the program like it was a horse racing form.

Daria noticed his attention and gave him a small wave. _Ack. Who just released the flock of butterflies in my stomach?_ He smiled and waved back.

To John's surprise, his brother Trent appeared on the bleachers and sauntered over to sit in front of Jake and Helen.

"Take your positions!" the starter called.

John set his feet into the starting blocks and crouched forward, fingers just touching the track. The muscles in his legs tightened in anticipation of their sudden use and John's attention narrowed to the small section of finish line 55 meters ahead. The starter pistol's report caused an instinctive response to leap forward at full sprint. All thought stayed focused on reaching the finish line by working his legs at peak performance. 

Seconds later, the race was over and John was slowing down as cheers rose from the bleachers. Evan, one of the other Lawndale sprinters was the first to reach him, slapping his back and saying, "Dude, way to go!"

More team members gathered around John as he realized that he'd won the race. For the first time in his life, a crowd gathered to congratulate him. After the meet, John was given a trophy to hold while Ted DeWitt-Clinton took a photo for the Lawndale Lowdown. Happy and still shocked by the attention, he barely noticed the camera flash or the good-natured backslaps and shoves from his teammates.

* * *

John found the family waiting outside the gym. Jake called out, "Way to go, my man!" and gave him an exaggerated high-five.

Helen smiled and said, "Congratulations."

Hesitant because of her parents' proximity, Daria gave him a hug. "Good one."

After the emotional high of the meet, her closeness felt exceptionally welcome. He returned the embrace thankfully and lightly kissed her cheek that faced away from Jake and Helen. "Thanks." 

Playfully, Quinn said, "Well Daria, how does it feel to be dating a jock?"

Trent stepped out from behind the Morgendorffers. "Cool, Johnny."

"Thanks for coming, Trent. It means a lot."

"I know all that practice meant a lot to you," Trent said.

Jake said, "Hi, Trent."

"Hey, Mr. Morgendorffer, Mrs. Morgendorffer. Looks like you're fattening Johnny up good." 

Helen said, "He has filled out."

"Daria thinks so," Quinn quipped.

Trent turned to the blushing girl. "Hey Daria. Looks like my brother still has good sense, too."

Daria mumbled, "Um, thanks."

Trent traced a pattern on the ground with one foot. "I need to go. Band practice at five."

John said, "It's six." 

"Yeah. Better get going then. See ya."

"Bye, Trent," John called. "Thanks again for coming." 

Beside him, Daria whispered to Quinn, "You're going to pay for that."

"It'll be worth it," was the younger sister's reply.

* * *

After school the next day, Mack and Jodie stopped by John and Daria's table at Pizza Prince. Daria had just finished saying something to John and was sipping her drink when Jodie said, "John, you were amazing. First place."

Mack put out his hand. "Yeah, congratulations."

John shook it. "Thanks, I, um, just pretend I'm running away from one of Li's assemblies."

A blond-haired boy came up to the table and leaned against it, saying, "Hey, teammate." 

John tilted his head toward the newcomer. "Daria, this is Evan, one of the other runners. Evan, this is Daria. You've heard me talk about her."

Evan said, "Hi, did you see this dude run like the wind?"

"Yeah, I was there," Daria said.

"Anyway…" Evan stood back up. "Can't wait to see you burn up the track next week. Later, dude." 

"Hey, bro!" Kevin yelled as he came with Brittany. 

Mack clenched his teeth and said, "See you later, bye." 

He took Jodie's hand and both made a hasty exit as Kevin neared the table.

Kevin loudly said, " Hey, hey, hey, it's the track star. You're gonna like being a jock, man. When you're a winner, everybody wants to be your friend."

Daria said, "Yeah, but they don't care who they push out of the way to get to you."

John asked, "What?"

Daria sharply replied, "I wouldn't mind finishing what I was saying before everyone and their brother decided to interrupt."

Kevin stepped back. "Um, this is, like, kinda freaky."

Brittany took his arm and pulled him further away. "Really freaky. We better get out here, Kevie."

"Yeah."

John looked across the table. "Daria, what the hell's wrong?" 

"I was in the middle of talking to you and they just kept barging in."

"Okay, you'd paused to take a drink when Jodie said something. I doubt if she was trying to be rude. She and Mack were just stopping by to say, 'hi.' And, how would Evan or Kevin know you'd been talking?"

"Uh…they couldn't." Daria slid down in her seat. "That sounded pretty bad, didn't it?"

"Kind of like me trying to run off Ted at the medieval faire a couple weeks ago?"

"We still need to work on the jealousy thing, don't we?"

"Looks like it."

* * *

The following weeks brought more wins for John. His new popularity was exciting and disturbing. As a natural response, he liked the attention for a change. But at the same time, there was a sense of being watched and being judged. Like the slightest misstep would lead to disaster.

On top of it all, his math scores were still barely passable. One day, Ms. Morris pulled John aside during practice and asked, "You seem preoccupied with something."

"Um, well, I've got a math quiz tomorrow." He frowned in embarrassment. "I've barely got a 'C' average and I'm worried about it dropping. I don't want to be ineligible to run."

"You've taken three firsts and a second in the fifty already. Don't worry about the quiz."

"What do you mean? If I bomb it, I'm gone." 

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll talk to Mr. Navarre. You won't have a problem."

"How…? You're going to get me a bye on the test."

"We need you on the team. Don't worry."

Disturbed, John said, "Um. Okay."

* * *

The painting was dominated by a vague landscape of dark greens and blues, while a tiny runner seemed lost amid the wilderness. John sighed in frustration as he pinched brush bristles between his fingers as he gently worked the brush soap into them. After rinsing the tool and drawing the bristles to shape, he set it in a cup to dry.

"Enough evasion," he said and picked up his math textbook. He dropped onto his bed and started reviewing the latest sections, but the words and symbols mentally blurred together in confusion. The more he stared and tried, the worse things became.

John slammed the book closed and closed his eyes. A solid minute later, he swung his legs off the bed and left his room, heading down the hall to Daria's. After a soft knock, he stuck his head inside to ask, "Can I ask for a little help?" 

Daria looked up from the book she was reading. "Of course you can. Why do you think you have to ask?"

John held up his math book. "I have a quiz tomorrow. My staying on the track team is riding on passing. With how people have been ignoring you to talk to me, I wasn't sure."

Daria momentarily chewed on her lower lip. When she spoke, Daria said, "And you've made sure I wasn't ignored. I'm still a little jealous, but I know this means a lot to you." Daria patted the place next to her. "What do you need help on?"

* * *

Right after the bell rang, the slender black man spoke to the class with the faint hint of a Haitian accent. "Okay students, that wraps up the answers to yesterday's quiz. For tonight's homework, do the odd numbered problems through number 25 from Chapter 8. If you have any questions about your quizzes, please see me after class."

John looked down at the 'C+' on his paper with relief. The score was his and the bye wasn't needed

Mr. Navarre stopped John on his way out of the classroom by saying, "Nice improvement. Looks like you've been studying."

John nodded and said, "Thanks." _I don't want to know if he would've given me the bye or not. _He quickly looked over his shoulder at the teacher stepping back into his room. _I wish I didn't have this hanging over me. I hate it._

* * *

"Enough about the quiz; I have a vested interest in keeping you around, remember?" Daria told John as they sat on the lawn between school buildings. "Anything you want to do for your birthday next week?"

He gave a noncommittal shrug.

Daria suggested, "We can bake cupcakes to poison all the suck-ups who only like you for being a track star."

"Hmm. That has possibilities. But, it'll be hard to hide the evidence. Don't worry about it too much. Birthdays are totally artificial holidays created to stimulate the economy."

"Aren't they the one holiday the greeting card industry didn't make up?"

In an exaggerated hushed tone, John said, "That's what they want you to believe." 

"I get the picture. No party and no present."

"I didn't say no present."

"How about a swift kick in the ass?"

John's laugh was cut short when he noticed the time. "Crap. Practice has already started."

Daria said, "You better get going."

John quickly stood up. "Sorry I have to run. See you after."

"See you."

John ran across campus to the track and met a grim-faced Ms. Morris. She barked," Lane! You're late." 

He nodded. "Sorry. I was talking with Daria and didn't notice the time."

"Lane, once it's 3:30, I expect to see you on the track running, not talking with your attitude-problem girlfriend. Don't let it happen again." 

"Partly, I was thanking her for helping me study for that math quiz. I did pretty good on it. Pretty good for me, that is. I didn't need a bye to pass."

"Yeah, right. You know better than to talk back and make excuses. I was hoping you'd be a good influence on her, but things seem to be going the other way and you're starting to act like your sister Penny. Why don't you take an extra two laps during warm-up to think about it?"

Not bothering to hide his anger, John said, "Yes, ma'am," and started to run.

Ms. Morris yelled after him. "And make sure you ditch your attitude problem before Saturday's meet! We have a long bus trip and I don't want to hear it."

* * *

Helen carefully raised a slice and said, "Jake, this doesn't look like take-out pizza."

"It's not!" Jake happily replied.

Helen held the slice still mid-way to her mouth. "Where did it come from?"

"John and I made it," Jake explained. "Right, John?"

The teen said, "Yeah, we followed the instructions on the box and threw a bunch of extra toppings on it."

Biting into her slice, Daria let out an "Aah!" and pulled it away.

Helen reacted immediately, saying, "Oh, my god, Daria! Are you all right? Jake, did you use one of your hot sauces on this?" 

Daria smiled, "Relax, Mom. It's just cheese burn. The pizza's actually edible."

"You're such a pain wimp, Daria," Quinn said. She pulled the cheese from her slice and said, "If we're making our own, we really should have cheeseless pizza. It's healthier."

_Philistine. _John said, "I'll keep my cheese. But if you want to help, we could make a small one on the side for you."

Jake grinned. "Quinn join us in the kitchen? That's a great idea!"

She picked bits of topping from the cheese and transferred them to her slice. "Uh…no, thanks. I can deal."

Helen looked at an open envelope on the table. "What's this? And who opened it?" 

Quinn waved her hand. "Don't worry. It's not going to happen."

Helen read the letter. "A mother-daughter fashion show at school? To raise money?"

Daria rolled her eyes. "And consciousness."

Mumbling past a mouthful of pizza, Jake proclaimed, "What a great idea!" 

Quinn patiently explained, "The Fashion Club has already scheduled an emergency meeting for this weekend. We'll put a stop to it."

"You don't want a repeat of the last fashion debacle at school, do you?" Daria asked.

"No kidding. We just can't let fashion amateurs run these things," Quinn agreed.

"Well, that's a relief." Helen added, "I mean, who wants to parade around showing off some ridiculous outfit?"

"With your mother." Seeing Helen's harsh glare, Quinn said, "Oops."

Hearing the telephone ring, Jake reached over to the counter and picked it up. Still talking around food, he said, "Hello?"

Sitting on a chair in his tiny apartment, Trent said, "Hey, Mr. Morgendorffer. Can I talk to Daria without John knowing? Trying to find his birthday present."

"Um, well, yeah." He held his hand over the phone. "Daria, it's for you." 

"Me?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah. Here, take it." Jake thrust the phone at Daria.

She cautiously answered, "Hello?"

Trent said, "Hey, Daria. Can you help me find a present for John?"

"I guess so."

"Cool."

"And?"

"Oh, yeah. Can I stop by tomorrow? Not too early, sometime before lunch...or after."

"Um, okay."

"Or better yet, why don't we leave it loose?"

"Yeah. We can do that."

"I owe you. Bye."

"Bye." 

Helen asked, "What was that about?"

"Uh, Jodie running an idea by me for the school paper. Nothing big."

* * *

Later, Daria let John into her room and almost closed the door. He said, "Red alert. The Four Fashionteers have reversed course on the school's show and your mother's going to be subjected to a full spa treatment tomorrow." 

"At least I didn't get recruited this time."

"I don't think Romonica will be anywhere near."

"Can I borrow your track spikes if she is?"

"That should confuse the DNA blood evidence on them."

Daria said, "You looked upset after practice today. Morris being a Class A rottweiler again?

"Yeah." John nodded.

"If she says I don't show enough enthusiasm one more time, I'm going to shove a pile of pom-poms into any and all places I can make them fit on her."

"I'll help." _After what she said today, boy will I help._

"You got in trouble for being late, didn't you?"

"I should've paid better attention to the time."

"And you're stuck on a bus with her for an hour and a half each way tomorrow."

"I'll put on my tape player and try to sleep on the way. Best way to deal." 

"Kind of wish I was going to be there, if only for amoral support."

"I wouldn't ask anyone to make a three hour round trip to watch my few seconds of glory. But, I'll appreciate a nice hug when I get home."

Daria put her arms around him and pulled him close. "I can do that."

* * *

In the morning, John stretched out on a bus seat and closed his eyes. After a few minutes, Ms. Morris asked him, "Ready to run today?"

John pushed his eyelids opened and faked good cheer. "I'm ready."

"Good. The team needs everyone at a hundred percent today; this is one of the biggest meets of the year."

"Trust me, I'm ready to run." _And then I'll dance on your head, given half the chance._

The driver started the bus and pulled out of the parking lot. John relaxed and swayed with the bouncing of the stiff suspension as the vehicle traveled down the road. He focused on the music playing through his earphones and let his mind free associate, coming up with new ideas and images.

* * *

Quinn dashed across the kitchen to stop Helen from pouring a cup of coffee, yelling, "Don't do it!" 

Groggy, Helen asked, "Quinn, what is the matter with you?"

Stunned by Helen's ignorance, Quinn explained, "Coffee…caffeine…dark circles…got it? Don't handicap yourself for the fashion show."

"Quinn, I need my coffee."

Quinn spread her hands to imitate a headline. "'Woman Loses Fashion Show Due to Pathetic Addiction. Daughter Shamed For Life.' Come on, the spa is about to open anyway." 

Helen called to her other daughter. "Daria? Last chance to join us for a mother-daughter day of beauty. It's very relaxing." 

Quinn inserted, "Yeah, come on. I'm sure John will like the effect on you."

"Um, I have other plans." A car horn outside caused Daria to look through the large living room window. "And surprisingly, that's my ride. I'm helping Trent find a present for John, and I'm going to look for one, too." 

Helen waved as Daria left. "Oh well, have fun, Sweetie. And please try to make sure Trent stays awake while driving." 

Daria hurried outside and climbed into Trent's car. "I wasn't expecting you before lunch."

"Rehearsal ran late, or early...whatever and I didn't want to go home." Trent then asked, "So, where to?"

Daria unfolded a sheet of notepaper. "Um, I was thinking..."

Trent backed the car out of the driveway and headed down the street. "No art supplies. I've done that too much. Buying just a CD is lame. And I can't set foot in a bookstore. Don't ask me why, Daria. I just don't want to talk about it. So, what are your ideas?"

Daria wadded up her notes and tossed them into the back seat. "A pony running free across the plain?"

Trent laughed and coughed. "Sounds like something Mom would try." He then had an idea and turned down an intersecting road. "You know, I'm sure we'll find something on Dega Street."

* * *

_Glory of Lawndale High. You've been listening to Ms. Li too much. _John's renewed anger smoldered as he waited for the 55 meter to be called up. The pep talk from the track coach had the rest of the team excited, but left John in a foul mood. Running had become a dull, boring job. John missed the simple joy of running. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt it. 

Over a public address system, an announcer's voice proclaimed, "55 meter dash. Please take your positions." 

John hopped up from ground and trotted to the start line from the school's infield area. He felt small compared to the well-muscled juniors and seniors lined up with him. _I hate this. This isn't the running I enjoy. This is the school wringing every bit out of me so it can look good. I'd quit in a heartbeat if I could._

"On your marks!" the starter called.

John settled into the starting blocks. _If not for staying with Daria. She's the only thing worth putting up with this._

John's anger fueled a fast start off the mark as he again narrowed his focus to the finish line of his lane. The adrenalin-fueled dash was fast, but during the walk down after crossing the line, John saw that he was behind several other competitors. A look at the results board showed he was fourth.

* * *

After several failed suggestions, Trent pointed to Axl's Piercing Parlor. "Hey!"

Daria asked, "Body piercing? John? Maybe I could get him some new earrings."

Trent asked, "What about you?" 

Confused by the question, Daria replied, "Me? No, it just seems too much like getting tortured for the sake of some subculture's notion of beauty."

As they stepped inside, a dark-haired, tattooed man said, "Hey, Trent. Just so you know, we're having a two-for-one special."

"Hey, that's cool, Axl. 11 bucks each." Trent turned to ask, "What do you say, Daria?"

Still not certain, Daria muttered, "Um..."

Axl handed Daria a laminated card. "Take a look at our piercing menu."

Daria scanned down the list. "I don't think that's how you spell 'uvula'." 

Matter-of-factly, Axl said, "That's not 'uvula'." 

Trent pointed to his right eyebrow. "I'm thinking about a hole right here."

The obvious straight line took Daria's mind off some of the items on the menu. She quipped, "You can never have too many holes in your head."

Trent said, "Come on, Daria. It's a special."

"I've always kind of thought gift certificates were a bit lame, but if that's what you want to give him..."

Trent scratched his chin. "Yeah, you're right." After a moment, he grinned, pointed to Daria's navel and said, "I know what would be cool. Little silver hoop."

Axl nodded his head from side to side. "Yeah, okay. A navel ring works, though I think a lip ring would look nicer."

Shocked, and glowing bright red of embarrassment, Daria snapped back, "I'm not going to pierce my belly button."

"Have a little fun."

"I might consider my ears."

Axl shook his head. "That's two holes; full price applies."

Trent said, "Daria, John would think it looks really hot."

* * *

John sensed Ms. Morris coming up beside him and clenched his teeth to keep from saying anything.

The coach patted his shoulder and said, "Great run, John. You set a new personal best for a meet."

John felt himself relax a bit. "I felt fast, but I still didn't place."

Morris continued. "You were beaten by two seniors and a junior who should've graduated last year." Under her breath, she said, "I'd love to find out how they've kept him eligible."

"I was worried you might be upset."

"There's always somebody faster. You should be proud of what you did." 

"Thanks."

"You've still got the drive to win. I was obviously mistaken yesterday. You're not like your sister."

"Um, thanks," John said, though his unease crept back up.

"And sometimes I forget what it's like to be a teen. A girlfriend can distract even the most focused athlete. That's the first time it's happened. Other runners have been tardy more than you have. I'm a little harder on you because you have real talent."

John nodded, starting to feel better again. "Thanks. But, I'll try not to be late again."

"I don't think you will. If you want some advice, if Daria's that important to you, you'd try to help with her attitude problem." 

Soured, John said, "I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

Anxiously, Daria rested on a converted exam bed, her shirt pulled up to reveal her pale stomach and navel. 

Seated on a rolling stool and preparing instruments, Axl asked, "Hey, you are 18, aren't you? I should've asked." 

Trying to believe she had agreed to the procedure, Daria faintly nodded.

"Good. This establishment is licensed to serve adults only and operates strictly according to the letter of the law."

A bell at the front desk rang.

Axl stood. "I better check on that."

Monique walked into the back room. "Hey, Axl, it's just me."

He said, "Hello, darling."

"I need some more of that antiseptic stuff for my nose ring." She noticed her on again-off again boyfriend. "Oh, Trent!" She hugged him. 

"Hey, Monique."

She looked over his shoulder. "Hey Daria."

"Hi, Monique." Feeling increased discomfort with the larger audience, Daria said, "You know, I'm really not big on pain."

"Don't worry," Axl tried to reassure her.

"It'll be over before you know it," Monique said. "Whatcha getting?" 

Trent said, "Navel ring."

Daria turned to look at the black-haired woman. "Though I'm about to…" 

"That's so cool," Monique replied. "Where's Johnny?"

"Track meet," Trent replied. "Thought we'd take care of his birthday present while he was out of town." 

"And his big brother talked me into…" Daria said with irritation.

"Done," Axl said as he spun the locking ball tight on the ring.

Daria's attention darted back to him. "What?"

Axl used an alcohol wipe to clean around the piercing. "Don't take it out for six months, or it'll close up and we'll have to pierce it again. Don't get scared when the mucous starts pouring out." He gave her a small bottle. "Use this antiseptic stuff, and take 50 milligrams a day of um...iron, zinc, copper…something like that."

When Axl moved his hand away, Daria could see the ring. "You really did it."

* * *

On the way back to the school bus, John picked up a complimentary notepad and pencil from one of the sponsor booths. After the bus was on the highway back to Lawndale, he put on his earphones and started to sketch.

Still twenty minutes from Lawndale and bored, Evan looked over the back of his seat at John. He tapped his teammate on the shoulder and said, "Hey!" 

John pulled his earphones down to rest around his neck. "Hmm?"

"What are you drawing?"

John turned the pad to face Evan and flipped through several leaves. 

"That's the Daria chick you hang around with." 

"Yeah."

"I don't get it."

"What don't you get?"

"Why her?"

"I can easily picture her and draw sketches that way."

"No, I mean, why do you hang out with her?"

"I really like her."

"Yeah, well. Come on, you're a track star. There's all kinds of good-looking girls you could get instead of her."

"Not interested."

"Not…wait, I heard you live with her."

"Yeah, her parents are my foster parents. My room's right down the hall."

Evan laughed and pushed John's shoulder. "I get it now. Why hunt around when you have a piece literally right down the hall. What a setup."

Disgusted, John said, "It's not like that." 

"Dude, it's cool. You don't have to pretend." 

"Really, we're not doing anything like that." 

"Whatever. Still, why stick with just her?" 

John's eyes narrowed. "Evan, I don't think we should say another word. Okay?"

"Just trying to understand why you want to hang around with such a loser."

"You never will."

* * *

Looking down the street, Daria could see that both her parents' cars were in the driveway of her house. She shifted her hold on a paper bag and said to herself, "Good thing Trent wandered off with Monique after getting his eyebrow pierced so I could pick up something else for John."

Inside the house, her father sat on the sofa, watching television. "Hey, Kiddo! How'd the shopping go?"

Daria showed the bag. "Successful."

Helen stepped out of the kitchen. "You missed out on a wonderful time. Maybe I'll schedule a day for just the two of us."

Daria stared at her mother's immensely complex hairdo. "Uh, no big rush on that. Really." 

"Is that John's present?"

"Yes, and before you ask, I'm keeping it a surprise."

"Sure, Sweetie. Mind telling me what John's brother got him?"

"He, um, ran into his girlfriend and got a little distracted." 

Helen sighed. "I don't know how that young man is ever going to make it in life."

* * *

John arrived home to the sight of Jake asleep on the couch and Helen sitting next to him, talking on the phone. "Don't worry, Eric. I certainly will not be wearing that outfit to work. I was only trying them on for my daughter's benefit…" 

He went straight to the kitchen and rummaged in the refrigerator for the night's leftover frozen lasagna. _This stuff takes, like, an hour or more to cook. You'd think she'd find something faster if she's always in such a damned hurry._

Holding a plate, he waved to Helen as he walked back through the living room. She held the phone against the sofa. "How was your day?"

"Not too bad. Placed fourth against some heavy competition."

"Oh, that's too bad. I'm sure you'll do better next time."

"Thanks."

On his way upstairs, he softly said, "I hope Daria's day was better than mine."

* * *

Brittany stopped behind Daria, who was standing in front of the school's locker room door. "Daria?" 

The brunette startled and turned. "Oh, hi Brittany." 

"Is the door locked or something?"

"Oh, no. I was just…trying to decide if I was going to dress out today or not."

"Are you sick?"

"No, yes, well…I don't feel like changing with everyone in there today." 

Brittany stepped away. "Eww. Do you have a rash or something?"

"No, I don't have a rash. I haven't had one since I was a baby."

"Then what's wrong?" 

Faintly blushing, Daria shrugged and said, "I just don't…"

Brittany opened the door and pulled Daria inside. "Come on, you know Ms. Morris will be mad if you don't change. Are you sure you're not sick?"

"I'm not sick."

"I'll talk and provide cover; you can change behind me. Nobody will see you."

Surprised, Daria said, "Thanks, Brittany."

They went directly to Daria's locker while Brittany said, "I'm so glad you're doing better with John being, like, more popular and stuff. People have even started noticing you again."

Daria started to change as fast as she could. "Thrilling."

"Isn't it? Now, you're not going to become as popular as me or anything. I mean, my Kevie's the QB and everything. But, you'll still be more popular than you are now."

Daria tossed her skirt into the locker and pulled her shorts on. "I'll try to survive." 

"You might even get invited to more parties. Wouldn't that be great?"

Daria turned away and pulled her shirt off. "Wonderful. Why do they have to keep these locker rooms so cold?"

"I don't know. Maybe to make you not notice the cold water in the showers?"

Shirt around her neck, Daria sneezed.

Brittany turned around. "Bless you." 

Out of reflex, Daria faced Brittany. "Thanks." 

"Wow! When did you get the belly ring?"

Daria pulled the shirt down fast. "Shh. I don't want anyone to know yet. Okay?"

"Huh?"

"It's a surprise. I don't want anyone to know."

Brittany smiled and knowingly nodded. "Oooh."

* * *

Walking home, John asked, "Um, did you get bitten by something?"

"Huh?" Daria replied.

"Did you get bitten or get into some poison ivy or something? You keep scratching your belly."

Daria looked down and moved her hand away. "Uh…yeah. A wasp got under my shirt during gym."

"Ouch."

"It's not too bad, just itches like crazy."

* * *

Just before brushing her teeth that night, Daria pulled her shirt up to scratch the irritation around the piecing. Quinn stepped in and said, "You didn't really do that!" 

Trying to be nonchalant, Daria said, "Do what?" 

Quinn pointed to her ring. "That!"

"Oh, this old thing? I only wear it when I don't care how my navel looks." 

Quinn grinned. "Mmm... I get it. You must be planning on something for John's birthday tomorrow. A nice little daring effect with a fake ring. Cute. I didn't think you had it in you, Daria." 

Daria blushed again. _I've got to stop doing that._

Quinn noticed her sister's reaction and looked closer at the ring. "Ohmygod! Mom and Dad are gonna freak!"

"Shh!" Daria quickly silenced Quinn. "Big fashion show tomorrow. Remember?"

Quinn narrowed her eyes, knowing she couldn't say anything.

Daria added, "And yes, it is a surprise for John. Long story."

"Okay. I'll keep quiet." Quinn said and walked back to her room with a grin. "Until I need it."

Daria started to scratch again and stopped. "You sure itch like hell." She started to undo the ring, but stopped, tightening it back up. She clenched her teeth and said, "Just one more day. If I went through it, John's at least going to see it."

* * *

_Stubborn people. Daria's bug bite has been itching for days now and she won't get it checked. J_ohn thought as he parted ways with Daria after school. She went to the school newspaper's meeting room and he headed for track practice. _Last one unless I get an invite to State._

Ms. Morris was waiting for him as he neared the gym. As he drew close, she held up a folded letter and said, "You're going to Baltimore. Congratulations."

John accepted the letter, feeling a big sense of accomplishment at the invitation. "Wow, really?" 

"Open it and read for yourself."

John read the letter twice. Thrilled, he said, "I'm really in. I've never received something like this before."

"You earned it. But now you've got a week and a half of the most serious practice you've ever had ahead of you."

The cold slap of reality brought him back. "I better get changed then," he said to cover his exit. _Now she's going to be riding my ass harder than ever._

* * *

Spotting both cars in the driveway, John said to Daria, "Uh-oh. Your parents are home early."

"Your birthday might have something to do with that."

"I guess, but still, it's not like Helen to leave work early." 

"She has the fashion show with Quinn tonight, remember? That's when we're going to the Zon to see your brother."

"Oh, yeah. I suppose I should tell her about the invite to state." 

"She kind of expects it."

"I noticed." 

As soon as they opened the door, Helen said, "Happy birthday."

Jake chimed in, "Happy birthday." 

"The cake's in here." Helen waved for John and Daria to follow.

A cake, with candles, was waiting on the dining table. John looked at it for several seconds. "Thanks. I haven't had one of these in a while."

Quinn lit the candles and grinned.

John suddenly realized, "You're not going to start singing, are you?"

Daria put one arm around his waist. "Come on, you tolerate Mystic Spiral singing." 

John whispered to Daria, "I'm afraid your father's singing may be as bad as his cooking."

* * *

Back in his room, John sorted the various brushes, paints and other art supplies he'd just received. "I need to have birthdays more often. This is a great way to stock up." 

Daria knocked and stepped in. "Hey, Mom and Quinn are sequestered in their rooms to prepare for the show."

John stepped over and happily hugged her. "Thanks. I've been eyeing those high-grade artist manikins for months."

"Thought you'd like them. There's um, one more thing."

"Oh?" 

"I, uh, went shopping with your brother last Saturday. He came up with…an unusual present that required my cooperation. The more I think of it, I think he was just setting me up to do something."

"Okay, I'm confused, but this is Trent's logic we're talking about here."

"There's really no other way to explain it except…"

Daria lifted her shirt a couple inches to show John the piercing.

John laughed and shook his head. "He got me a hole in your navel." 

Trying to explain, Daria said, "Trent thought you'd like it."

John kept laughing. "That is so my brother." 

"That's what's been itching like crazy."

John stopped laughing and looked again. _It looks hot on her. _"I hope you don't mind, but Trent was right; I like it. I can't believe you did that for me."

Daria pulled her shirt down. "That makes two of us. Your brother can be very convincing."

"Oh, he can be a charmer, all right. Guess it's a good thing you didn't see him first."

Daria said, "Hey, I prefer younger men."

John moved his arms around her. "As long as I'm the younger man."

Daria gently kissed him. "Don't worry. You are."

* * *

The crowd at the Zon was the usual mix of young adults and teens. On stage, Mystic Spiral was about to start their first set of the evening.

Trent coughed and said into the microphone, "Hello. We're Mystik Spiral and I want to say happy birthday to my brother, John.

Jesse added, "Have a good one, John."

The band started playing a lead-in for Trent's singing.

_Little brother, little brother you touch peoples lives like no other.  
What can I get you that you haven't taken?  
What can I get you that hasn't been killed by corruption and greed?  
What can I get you that isn't tie-dyed or like what you already have,  
or plastic or not alive or so sad?_

Jesse joined in.

_Does anybody know?  
Does anybody know why we're here?  
Does anybody know?  
Does anybody know why we're here?  
Does anybody know?   
Does anybody know why we're here?_

After a last flourish, Jesse pumped his fist. "Yeah!"

* * *

After the set, John and Daria sat at a small table with Trent, who was saying, "Thought you'd like it, Johnny."

John held Daria's hand. "Oh, I do. But now, she's making noises about what's good for the goose…" 

Trent laughed and coughed. "Guess I should've saved the other hole from the two-for-one after all."

Daria said, "I don't think that's something you can save."

"Oh, yeah." Trent looked distant for a moment and said, "Hey, Johnny, got a call from Penny today wishing you a happy birthday." 

John smiled in surprise. "Wow, that's cool. Where's she at this time?"

"Costa Rica."

"What's she doing now?"

"Picture frames, or something like that. Found a big pile of scrap tin."

Daria said, "I see the Lane creative streak strikes again."

"Yeah," Trent agreed. "Penny's also the other runner of the family. She pissed off her old gym coach when she wouldn't join the track team." 

John said, "No wonder Ms. Morris has such a bug up her butt about Penny."

"Oh, yeah. She's still the coach, isn't she?" Trent asked.

"The one and only." 

Trent shook his head. "Ah, man. No wonder you've been having such a bad time."

John asked, "Did Penny leave a phone number?"

"Nah."

"Well, did she say anything else?"

"Yeah, run one good race for her. Just to rub Morris's nose in it."

"Deal."

* * *

Each with one arm around the other, Daria and John watched Trent's car leave. John pulled Daria close and they shared a long kiss. He said, "This is the best birthday I can remember. Thanks."

"You're welcome." 

Playfully, John asked, "I don't suppose you'll start wearing your sister's baby-t shirts to show off your ring." 

Daria told him, "I got that for you, not for general audiences."

He smiled. "That means a lot." 

"It better, considering what I went through to get it." 

John felt his face flush. _Between actually showing her stomach to a stranger and the actual piercing… _"I know it wasn't easy for you."

After embracing for a few moments longer, John said, "Guess we better go in."

"And listen to Quinn prattle on about the fashion show."

"I'm the birthday boy. I'll claim privilege and run away with you upstairs."

"I should feel guilty about spillover perks, but I'm not," Daria replied.

Inside, they turned the corner into the kitchen. Helen, still dressed for the fashion show but disheveled and irritated, waited with arms folded. Quinn, similarly attired and disarrayed, sat at the table. Jake stood firmly beside Helen with hands on hips.

Daria said, "Um…what's up, doc?"

Helen pushed the replay button on the answering machine.

After a beep, Brittany's voice said, "Hi Daria, it's me, Brittany! I was kind of thinking and I really liked the belly button ring. Where did you get it? You can tell me at school tomorrow. Bye!"

Jake said, "We want to see it now."

"Out with it," Helen demanded. 

Daria shifted her attention from one parent to the other before sighing. She lifted her shirt and said, "Here." 

"Gahh!" Jake screamed.

"What got into you, young lady?" Helen asked.

"You…you've been mutilated," Jake sputtered.

"Mom, Dad, I, uh…" Daria looked at John and took his hand. "I did something impulsively for a guy. Okay?"

Helen shot a look at John. "What did you have to do with this?"

"Uh…" John got out.

"Yeah, what?" Jake asked.

Daria said, "It was a surprise for him. He only found out tonight." 

Tapping her foot, Helen asked, "And what kind of message were you trying to send?"

"God, Mom," Quinn interrupted. "John's been one of the best things for Daria, and you're giving her a hard time for trying to look hot for him?" 

Helen swung around to set Quinn in her sights. "Exactly. That is not the kind of message she needs to be sending to a young man."

"What kind of message do those see-through nighties that you keep hiding at the bottom of the laundry send?" Quinn rebutted.

"That's different. Your father and I are adults and they're not," Helen said.

Daria opened the ring and pulled it out. "This thing's been itching like crazy anyway." She slapped it down on the table. "They said the hole would close up if I took it out too soon. Will that make you happy?"

Helen glared. "It's a start."

"Good, I'll be in my room. You can tell me about my punishment when you decide on it."

Jake said, "We'll let you know!" 

Daria quickly went upstairs.

"Oh, crap," John said and chased after.

Quinn picked up the ring and rolled it between her fingers. "Good one, Mom. Daria finally did something to look nice for John, without us pushing her, and you slammed her for it."

"It's not like she bought a dress or shoes…"

"No. That was probably a lot harder for her to do."

"She clearly wasn't thinking…"

Quinn put the ring on the table and stood. "Of course she wasn't thinking. She was feeling for a change." 

"That's what I'm afraid of," Helen snapped.

"You shouldn't be. Those two are still….oooh!" Flustered, Quinn started to walk away. "Forget about us tripping during the fashion show. I'll get over it. But, I don't know about Daria." 

After Quinn left, Helen picked up the ring and sat down. 

Jake asked, "We did the right thing, didn't we?" 

"Did we?"

* * *

Daria leaned on the windowsill and stared down into the back yard. John stood behind and to the side, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder. She moved her hand up to his. "One step forward and two back. Now Mom and Dad are going to swing back to paranoid mode again."

Without a clue of what to say, John gently squeezed her shoulder. He then moved closer and stared out into the night with her.

Twenty minutes later, they were still there when Helen knocked and looked in. "John, I'd like some time with Daria."

John looked over and nodded, slowly taking his hand from Daria's shoulder. "I'll be in my room."

After John walked by, Helen noticed Daria's hand still on her shoulder, where it had been holding John's.

After John closed the door, Daria said without turning, "What's the sentence?"

Helen stopped several paces from the teen. "Daria, there are good reasons why you have to be 18 or have parental permission before you get pierced. You realize that, don't you?"

"Yes, and since you're going to ask, I lied about my age."

"And the shop didn't check your ID, even though you don't look 18."

Daria rested her head against the window. "Is the torture necessary? I screwed up, we know that. Can you please just tell me what the punishment is?" 

"One question first."

"And that is?" 

"What were you feeling?"

"Huh?" 

"What emotions did you feel when you did it?" 

"Um…well, Trent and Monique were talking and I thought…"

"I didn't ask what you were thinking. What did you feel?"

The young woman slowly turned. "How John makes me happy. In a way I've never been before. I wanted to…uh…for him…I'm not making sense, am I?"

"More than you think. Much more." Helen slipped the ring from her little finger and stepped over to Daria. "Your voice told me it wasn't what I was afraid of. I'm sorry I made the wrong assumption. Though next time, please ask for permission."

Daria accepted the ring. "I doubt if there will be a next time, at least for me."

Helen went to the door. "I'll tell John."

"Thanks."

After Helen closed the door, Daria carefully put the ring back in her navel. "After all that, I think we're going to be together a while."

Helen stepped to the hall window and looked out. "But I heard something I was hoping not to hear until you were older."

* * *

John opened the door for Helen. She said, "All charges are dropped. Daria's free to go."

He took a couple tries to say, "Really?"

"We agreed that she'll ask for permission before doing anything else like that. The same applies to you."

"No argument. But, this is a big turnaround. You were really mad down there." 

Helen went into the room and closed the door. "John, when I was your age, I did some indiscreet things. Things I've regretted. Because of that, I was afraid her piercing was a sign of something it wasn't. Now that I know otherwise, I gave the ring back to her."

"I suppose from your end, it did look rather bad. But, it meant a lot to me. Daria always makes me feel…um, that is, when she's with me, uh…I'm happy."

Helen saw pink on his cheeks. "I get the picture."

She opened the door. "Good night and happy birthday."

"Thanks. And, thanks for changing your mind about the ring."

Helen silently nodded and closed the door.

John looked at the wall he shared with Daria. "What did you tell your mother?"

* * *

Daria watched Ms. Morris storm out of her office and head toward the main office, presumably to see the principal, Ms. Li.

Brittany followed her out of the office, twirling her blond hair. "Wow. She's really upset."

Next, several other cheerleaders stepped out. Nikki said, "No kidding."

"It's not like anyone can see them or anything," Angie said.

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Daria said to herself as she went into the locker room. "At least 'Focus on Agility' is over and I have the excitement of volleyball to look forward to."

After a half-hearted attempt to stop the ball that zipped past, Daria heard Ms. Morris yell, "Morgendorffer! Get over here. Now!"

_I guess I'm not showing enough enthusiasm again._

Daria shrugged and walked over. "Yes, Ms. Morris?"

"Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Trying to play volleyball?"

"Not that. The cheerleaders all say they got the idea from you. What do you have to say for yourself?" 

"The cheerleaders?"

"Yes. They've all pieced their belly buttons because of you!"

Utterly incredulous, Daria asked, "They did what?"

"First it was Brittany imitating you, but now they've all done it!" 

"Oh."

"What about it?"

"It's not like I held a gun to their heads and made them."

"For some reason that's beyond me, students look up to you, and you're setting a terrible example."

"Ms. Morris, I got my piercing for my own reasons. Trust me, corrupting your cheerleaders was not one of them. I'm just as surprised as you that they did it." 

Cautiously, Ms. Morris said, "Okay. You may not be doing it purposefully. But like I said, students look to you as an example. Be careful of the one you set."

"Yes, Ms. Morris." 

"Now get back into the game. And try to look like you're playing volleyball."

* * *

John watched Daria and her family in the stands, waiting for the race to start. Trent had also piled into the SUV for the trip to Baltimore and was seated with them. His view shifted to Ms. Morris, and he purposefully slammed down the images of mayhem she generated. _Today isn't for you or Lawndale High. Today is for those you and the team have insulted._

He recognized several runners as those that beat him at the regional meet. He nodded to them and they wordlessly nodded back. Following the starter's direction, they set their feet into the blocks and prepared. John looked past the starting line and felt a sense of relief. At the gun, his running felt fluid and effortless; his breathing was perfect and he soon passed the finish line as a smile spread on his face.

* * *

Surrounded by the team, John wanted to swing the brass trophy at Evan, who approached with a fake smile plastered on his face.

Evan said, "Whoa. First sprinter to take a state trophy in over twenty years."

The veiled jealousy irked John. "Well, I had some special motivation today." 

"You need to bottle it and pass it around next year." 

John handed the trophy to Evan. "Hey, can you carry this back?"

"Um, sure."

John extricated himself from the crowed and trotted away, thinking, _First useful thing he's done for me all year._

At the edge of the field, he grabbed Daria and gave her an ecstatic hug and a kiss. 

Surprised by such an open display, Daria took a second to respond, putting her arms around him.

"Congratulations, John. Third in the state," Helen said.

Jake slapped John's back. "Yeah! Congratulations!"

"I'll make sure I tell Penny," Trent added.

Quinn said, "I don't think he heard any of you."

* * *

After his name was called, John dropped his tape player's earphones down around his neck. He accepted a quick hand-squeeze from Daria and walked up to the stage to where Ms. Li, Ms. Morris and Coach Gibson stood. Between the two coaches was a table with two shrunken stacks of athletic letters. As he crossed the stage to the podium, modest applause came from the gathered students who were still awake for the school assembly.

Ms. Li cooed, "All of Lawndale High appreciates the honor and glory that Mr. Lane has brought with his trophy-winning performances. Ms. Morris." 

Ms. Morris picked up a yellow and blue 'L' and handed it to John.

John handed it back. "That isn't why I ran. But, I will say that I learned a lot about competition and I'm glad to see the season is over. Don't expect me back next year."

Next, he tugged on the sleeve of his red shirt. "Don't bother ordering a jacket; this is fine."

Ms. Morris harrumphed and said, "After all this, you're still a quitter like your sister and have your girlfriend's attitude."

"Looks like it." 

Ms. Li fumed. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I'm a champion in the eyes of the only one that matters. I don't need that letter. I already have a ring."

Ms. Morris leaned forward and harshly whispered, "Then you better start worrying about your grades. Byes can vanish."

John whispered back, "I never used them and have all my graded papers to prove it."

John turned and walked to the stage exit. He unplugged his earphones and turned on the tape player, rolling the volume control up with this thumb.

_Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.  
There beneath the blue suburban skies  
I sit, and meanwhile back_

* * *

Some dialog from:  
_See Jane Run_ by Rachelle Romberg  
_Pierce Me_ by Neena Beber

Lyrics from:  
_Penny Lane_ by John Lennon and Paul McCartney 

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, and Ipswichfan for beta reading.


	16. Left to the Heart

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the sixteenth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Left to the Heart**

Carrying a school book, Daria Morgendorffer walked into the kitchen to see her father Jake and boyfriend John Lane working around a large, steaming stew pot.

Jake said, "Hey, Kiddo! Bet you're wondering what the two of us are up to?"

Daria saw John carefully hoarding some ingredients away from Jake's sight. She said, "I'm sure that there's a good story behind it."

"Daria, I woke up in the middle of the night with a hankering for the old kitchen sink stew they used to serve us at the military academy!" Jake grinned.

Daria looked over the counter. "I see you haven't added the kitchen sink yet."

"Good one, Kiddo!" Still paying attention to Daria, he stirred the pot and gave directions to John, "Hmm. Put in a cup of soup stock, a handful of peppercorns…"

John's eyes widened and he added only a couple peppercorns instead.

Jake went on, "…pinch of oregano, two dozen chilies..."

Behind Jake, John shook his head and carefully put one in the pot.

Jake stirred for a couple seconds and tasted it. "Mmm. Just like I remember." He put his hands on hips and puffed out his chest. "Ole Jake's still got it."

Daria and John exchanged glances as she went to the table and sat down to read.

Helen came into the room and gave the stew pot a cautious glance as John tasted it. Satisfied he wasn't going to keel over, Helen sat next to Daria. "May I ask what's so fascinating?"

Daria set the book down, but still open. "I wouldn't exactly call it fascinating. It's a school book about how fiction should be more than just entertaining."

Trying to keep the conversation going, Helen said, "It still sounds interesting, don't you think?"

"No. It's a writer writing a book about how writers should write books. I bet five or six copies have sold outside of the captive academic market."

"You two have the same English class. Is John reading it?"

"He read the chapter during his extra study hall while waiting for me to get out of the school newspaper."

John prevented Jake from adding the contents of a small bottle to the stew and suggested, "Why don't we just go with this tonight? We can experiment on the next batch."

Jake grinned. "Great idea!" 

Helen nervously watched the two males and then asked Daria, "Speaking of the paper, anything interesting there?

"Well, people are still writing letters blaming me for John refusing his letter for track. I was told to re-edit my column about 'grade adjustments' for star athletes, and…never mind. Overall, just a great week."

Helen sighed. "Oh, Daria...do you have to look at everything in such a negative light?"

Daria answered, "Could you possibly be referring to the harsh light of reality?"

* * *

Leaving Mr. O'Neill's English class the next day, Daria stepped to the side as she exited the door and dropped heavily back against the wall. "Dammit."

Waiting for her, John asked, "What's wrong? He didn't let you find another book to read?"

"Of course not. Because I've insolently read all the books on his list, he's giving me a 'special' assignment. I get to write a story with moral dimensions."

"No good deed goes unpunished. Hey! How about the moral imperative of Melody Powers to gun down communists? That should get him."

"Can't. I have to use people I know in the story."

"It could be argued that Melody is a self-insertion character."

Daria's eyes turned cold. "I know where you live."

* * *

Sitting cross-legged on John's bed, Daria ripped a page from the notebook she'd been writing in and wadded it up. "Argh!" In frustration, she threw it at the trash can next to the partially open door and watched it bounce back into the room.

From his easel, John said, "That didn't sound good."

"I keep coming up with a blank for this stupid story."

"What's so hard? You hold people's lives in the palm of your hand." John rubbed his hands together and laughed evilly. "I'd make them squirm. Angst! Angst for the Angst God!"

"Down, boy."

"You know what would be scary? If Barch ever hogties O'Neill."

"We need to get you away from the paint thinner for a while." 

"Admit it. Wouldn't that be a scene to behold?" 

Daria started writing.

_**Fr. DeMartino asked, adding a special inflection to choice words, "And do you, Timothy, take this human mantis as your lawfully wedded pred…wife?"**_

Mr. O'Neill nervously looked around. Ms. Barch gave his leash a sharp yank and said, "Answer him, Skinny!"

"Um…" 

Fr. DeMartino asked, "I said, do you…I can't do this! Timothy! Can't you see she's going to devour you like a bag of Doritos? Run man! Run!"

Mr. O'Neill tried to run, but was stopped short by the leash. Ms. Barch said, "Let's forget the formalities. It's dinnertime."

Daria frowned, tore the sheet away, crumpled it and threw it at the can. The paper bounced off the rim and out into the hallway.

"Wouldn't that be a scary sight?" John asked.

Daria looked ahead. "Too scary. Don't ever bring that up again."

"Now that you think about it, yeah. Why don't you take a break and we can start plotting our summer. It's coming up fast."

Helen saw the paper bounce out of the room and come to rest. Curious, she went to the door.

Daria said, "Mom always found some kind of summer activity for Quinn and me. You can bet she'll find something this time."

"You know, last year I took that life drawing class over at the community college. Ms. DeFoe sponsored me through the school so I didn't have to pay." 

"That's an idea, but I'd have to get Mr. O'Neill to sponsor me."

"Think of it as payback for this assignment."

Daria gently laughed. "I like your thinking." She went over and kissed John. "And I can't see Mom objecting to us getting more school."

Outside, Helen nodded and smiled in appreciation. "No, I wouldn't."

John added, "Being only one hour a day, we could have the rest of the time to ourselves. That'd be nice."

Helen's eyes opened wide.

Daria shook her head. "Mom's a college veteran. She'll figure that out and find something extra for us."

"It was worth a try."

Helen walked away and went to her bedroom. "But it's still summer. Shorts, swim suits, and long days with many temptations."

She left the room and hurried downstairs to where Jake was watching a baseball game on television.

"Jake."

He stayed focused on the game.

"Jake!"

He abruptly turned around. "Huh?"

"Jake, it's time we did more than hope that Daria and John stay responsible."

* * *

Annoyed and angry, Daria told Jodie, "Look. Just use the 'Why Trimesters?' column I've had lying around. I know Ms. Li has the final say on what we publish and I'm not going to change my column on grade fixing to say what she wants. So, use the backup plan if you don't want empty space."

Jodie stared down at the school desk, unable to look at her friend. "Daria, I'm sorry. I did everything I could. But I'm not going to let you go out on a limb like that when we know Ms. Li is already shredding evidence."

Daria shook her head. "And because John and Mack never used byes, we don't have any evidence in our possession. Ms. Li won this round. Dammit." 

"Since I already have a column for you, why don't you get out of here early?"

"Thanks."

* * *

Daria slipped into the study hall room and saw John reading his book for Mr. O'Neill's class, Kurt Vonnegut's _Breakfast of Champions._ She walked up behind him and saw the one of the author's felt pen drawings, an asterisk-like design. She quietly said to John, "That pretty much sums up my opinion of the school administration."

"You're early," John said as he faced her.

"We're using an old backup column for the paper this week. I'm done for the day." 

"Might as well head home then."

Mr. DeMartino stood in front of them. "That would be an excellent idea, Mr. Lane. Your conversation is disturbing the precious beauty sleep the other students are getting."

* * *

With her back propped against her pillows, Daria rested her head back against the wall and thought. Her knees were drawn up and her writing notebook rested against them. Acting quickly on an idea, she started writing.

_**Kevin woke up that morning thinking something was odd. Maybe it was when he crawled out of bed and all six of his feet touched the floor. Or possibly, it was when he stretched his wings as he yawned. But most likely, it was when he tried to put on his shoulder pads and found that they wouldn't fit over his pronotum.**_

"That's awful," Daria groaned. The now-familiar process of tear, wad and throw resulted in the page landing squarely in the trash can. "At least I'm getting good at something."

In response to a knock at her door, she set the notebook aside and slid over to the edge of the bed. "Come in. I'm not getting anything done." 

Helen stepped inside and quietly closed the door. "Now Sweetie, I don't want you to take what I'm about to say as an invitation or encouragement to do anything."

"That's good. Being trapped in my room by you usually encourages me to do something."

"Daria. Your father and I are a little concerned about you and John. So, I made an appointment for you to see the gynecologist."

Shocked, Daria exclaimed, "What? We haven't done anything. You don't need to get medical confirmation."

Helen stepped closer to where Daria sat on the bed. "That's not the reason. This is a pre-screening to get you a prescription for birth control."

"Mom, aren't you listening? We are not doing anything and we're not planning on it anytime soon." Daria emphasized each word, "When are you going to learn to trust us?"

Helen sat down and took Daria's hand. "I believe you. And I know you're being completely sincere when you say you don't plan on anything." 

"Then why?"

"Sometimes, hormones can reach the boiling point…"

"Mom, my hormones barely get lukewarm."

Helen looked squarely at Daria. "Really?"

Daria squirmed, but didn't say anything. 

"I think I have a little more experience in this than you do. Don't you agree?"

"Um, yes."

"Good. Daria, no matter what their intentions or plans are, people can get carried away with emotion. Trust me." Helen mumbled, "Like that damn stunt car driver."

"Stunt car driver?" 

Embarrassed, Helen admitted, "Yes, a stunt car driver." Back on target, she said, "And you have an even stronger temptation to worry about. You're falling in love with an admittedly very nice young man who lives in the same house. I'm realistic enough to know that something might happen, in spite of all your intentions and plans. Can you see the cold light of reality enough to admit that?"

Daria squirmed in silence again.

Helen asked again, "Can you?"

Quietly, Daria said, "Yes." 

"Now do you understand why I'm taking you to the doctor?"

The young woman slowly nodded. "I should be glad you don't want him to leave. Seems like that would solve your worries."

Helen sighed and caringly stroked her daughter's hair. "That would be one of the worst things I could do."

Daria turned, her eyes inquiring.

Helen explained, "You're an intelligent and resourceful young woman that would find a way to see John. Right?"

"Yes, I would."

"In that case, the emotions and frustrations of when you could see him would be greater, meaning that you would be more likely do something. And be less prepared if you do."

Daria silently nodded.

"Sweetie, we're not punishing you and John. I trust you two to do your best and I hope you succeed. I want you to succeed. The pills are for…just in case."

Daria said, "We've really been worrying you, haven't we?"

"It's part of the job." 

"Sorry."

Helen stood and smiled back at Daria. "You're worth it. Both of you."

"Uh…thanks. Are you going to talk to John?"

"Your father is taking care of that."

Both women looked at each other and then at the wall separating Daria and John's rooms. Helen said, "I better go check."

"I'm right behind you." 

Helen and Daria quickly walked to John's door, where they stopped and listened. Daria said, "I don't hear anything." 

Helen said, "I hope that's a good sign. After some of the ideas he came up with…"

"He didn't try to find a chastity belt, did he?"

Helen ignored the question and raised her hand to knock on the door.

Not that surprised, Daria said, "He did."

Helen admitted, "Several ideas were proposed and discarded." 

"Mom…please…never tell me what any of the other ideas were. Never."

Helen knocked on the door and opened it.

John and Jake's laughter followed the faint "thwap" of something hitting Helen's forehead. John said, "You're right. They do stretch."

* * *

After Jake and Helen left the room, John and Daria sat on his bed, talking. John said, "After your father explained that if you ever got pregnant…" He held up a condom package. "…what would be left of me would barely fill one of these, things ran a little smoother."

"I'm glad Mom went with the more reasoned approach."

"Oh, I understood your Dad's reasons very clearly. No ambiguity there. I swear he was channeling his father for a moment."

"Mom used her lawyer psychology on me. Damn, she's good, even got me to admit that I am sometimes tempted."

"Must be a guy thing. Jake knew I was tempted and he clearly explained the consequences to me if I did anything. Very clearly."

A hint of fear in her voice, Daria said, "But, we're still planning on not doing anything, right?"

John took Daria's hand reassuringly. "Even though I was a kid, I still remember what Summer went through as a teenage mom. I don't want you to go through it." 

Daria relaxed a bit and joked, "And I thought going through the first 'talk' was embarrassing."

"At least you had one with your parents. I found out when I asked Trent what all the noise in his room was one night. The girlfriend he had before Monique was, um, vocal."

"That was way too much information."

Outside, Quinn tiptoed back to her room. _I better be careful or Mom's going to be targeting me next._

* * *

_**Through the pounding rain, the gleaming light beckoned Sir Jake. He knew his quest was almost at an end and the Holy Grail was in the keep just ahead. Exhausted and weary, he fought his way to the door, pounding on it.**_

Without warning, the door opened and he fell inside. Raising his head, he saw a dozen beautiful women in white.

Sister Helen said, "Welcome, gentle, good sir knight. Welcome to Castle Anthrax."

"Castle Anthrax?"

"Yes. It's not a very good name, really. But, we are here to attend to your every, every need."

Daria pulled the sheet of paper loose and began tearing it into tiny pieces. "If I'm going to come up with stuff like that, I need to get a shredder."

* * *

Staring up at the ceiling of his room, John complained, "Big downside of a good imagination and knowledge of human proportions. I can realistically imagine what she looks like." He sat up on the edge of the bed and looked to Daria's room. "I think you're beautiful. You're so smart you scare me and your sarcasm's always good to keep the world in a skewed perspective. I'm glad the rest of the guys at Lawndale can't see you for who you are."

Smiling, he laid back down with his hands behind his head. "You make me feel…I'm not sure what, but it's great."

* * *

Daria dropped the notebook on the floor. "I'm not getting anywhere." She crossed the room to her desk and sat down, looking at a small photo of John.

"Boy, is life a lot different than Highland," Daria said to the picture. "Lawndale's also populated by idiots, the school's more corrupt and my parents are still overworking themselves. But, there's one thing that makes a difference. You."

Daria looked over at her closet and walked over, opening the door. She took off her green jacket and put it on a hanger before stepping back from the small mirror inside the door.

She ran hands down each side, following the curves of her body. "To my surprise, you find me attractive enough to be desirable. And oddly enough…I feel the same about you. That's something I never really thought I'd feel about a guy."

She wrapped her arms around herself and kept looking in the mirror. "But, there's more. I feel something other than base desire."

The memory of her mother's talk came back.

_"You're falling in love with an admittedly very nice young man…"_

Daria felt a slight shiver and she held herself tighter. "Is she right?"

* * *

On the way to school the next day, Daria said to Quinn, "Okay, we're out of sight of the house. Why are you still with us?"

"Can't I enjoy a nice morning walk with my sister and foster brother?" Quinn innocently asked.

John said, "If we believed that, you could sell us the Brooklyn Bridge."

Daria said, "Out with it, Quinn. What gives?"

"Daria, I overheard yesterday."

Daria stopped and crossed her arms. "Overheard? You mean you listened at my door."

"Um, yeah. Mom had that 'We have to talk' look and…and, I couldn't resist."

The older girl's shoulders dropped. "Great." 

Quinn stepped closer and spoke in a low tone. "Please don't say a word of it to anyone. I mean nobody."

Caught off-guard, Daria said, "I thought I was going to be asking you that, and negotiating how much it was going to cost me."

Quinn focused on her sister. "Look, if word gets out that you're on the pill, guys are going to assume that I'm on it, too."

Daria filled in the rest. "Making them think that there's a reason for you to be on the pill."

"Exactly! Guys are always after one thing and…um…" Quinn remembered who else was present. "…sorry."

John smirked. "No, you're right, Quinn. That is what guys are basically after."

Quinn's jaw dropped in shock.

He added, "But, some of us know we have to wait, and will if someone is important to them."

"Good save," Daria told him. To both, she said, "Out of mutual self-interest, I think we all agree to stay quiet about this at school."

John said, "Agreed."

"Deal," Quinn affirmed. "Now that we understand each other, bye." 

Daria shook her head as Quinn hurried ahead of them.

John grasped Daria's hand. "So, how badly has this latest distraction disturbed your writing?"

Daria watched the sidewalk. "I can't write. I can't produce a simple story. I know life's going to throw me bigger distractions than this. My whole idea of being a writer is a sham if I can't handle a little parental paranoia." 

"I think I would've called it a lot of parental paranoia. But, I never figured you for a lack of imagination." 

Daria explained, "Oh, believe me, I have imagination. I've come up with all sorts of ideas, but there's no way I'd ever hand them in."

"That warped? You've got to let me see them."

"I could, but then I'd have to kill you."

"I want to stick around for a while longer. What kind of story do you want to turn in?"

Daria thought for moment and said, "Something that says something." 

"What? Anything?"

"No, something. About something."

John carefully said, "Let me get this straight: you want to write something, not just anything, that says something about something.

"Right."

"Maybe we need to work on this communication thing, too."

* * *

_**Her arms and legs held down against the table by leather restraints, Quinn, clad only in a short hospital gown, watched wide-eyed as the white-coated doctor entered the room. The doctor evilly grinned as she watched her patient. She said, "We have ways of making you talk."**_

"I'll talk!" Quinn cried.

"Oh, not so soon." The doctor picked up a gleaming, stainless steel implement from a rolling table. "We don't like people who talk too soon."

"Please! I'll say anything you like!"

"Oh, don't worry. You will."

A woman with graying, medium brown hair who wore a lab coat entered the examine room. "Good, you're dressed."

Daria looked up from her perch on the examine table and closed the notebook she'd just been writing in. "I figure the faster I cooperate, the faster I can escape from here."

The doctor chuckled and sat down on a rolling examine chair to face Daria. "I'm not too fond of being at the receiving end of an exam either."

"Meaning that this little humiliating ritual will be a regular part of my life from now on?"

"Sorry. Life isn't fair, but I get the idea you've already figured that out."

"And I keep getting it confirmed every day."

The older woman looked at the notebook. "Do you like to write? I normally have patients reading my horrible old magazines."

"It's a creative writing assignment for school."

"Sounds interesting. When I was in high school, we mostly only got book reports."

"Oh, that's what everyone else is doing. Since I'd read all the stories on the list, I was given a 'special' assignment, instead of simply being allowed to choose another book. Probably because I might pick something the teacher doesn't have the _Jiff's Notes_ for."

"Oh." The doctor skimmed over her notes on a clipboard. "Back to why we're here. You're in excellent health and I see no problem with prescribing oral contraceptives for you. However, since you're not currently sexually active, I'd like to ask a couple more questions before I do." 

Daria held up her hand and ticked off fingers as she talked. "Let me guess. 'Do I have a boyfriend?' Yes. 'Do I plan on becoming sexually active soon?' No. 'Is my mother paranoid that we will anyway?' Yes."

"That about covers it. I'm glad you don't have plans on having sex at your age. I've seen too many teenage girls for the other half of my practice." The doctor leaned forward. "As an added incentive, if you thought the GYN exam was embarrassing, an OB exam is worse."

Daria nodded. "That's certainly a good incentive to me." 

"Still, I'm glad you and your mother are taking precautions." The doctor took a small plastic case from her coat pocket and handed it to Daria. "First off, you'll need to decide on what is the best time of the day for you to remember to take them. Consistency is important in their effectiveness. You'll want a time that makes it easy to remember, as well as convenient."

"That means mornings are right out."

* * *

As he jogged home from school alone, John rubbed his head in anticipation of a headache when he saw Kevin's Jeep stop next to him, with Brittany Taylor in the passenger seat.

She asked through the open window, "Is Daria mad at you?"

John asked in reply, "Why would she be mad?"

Brittany twirled her blond hair around one finger. "You're walking home alone." She shot Kevin a fast, angry look and back at John. "Did you do something stupid?" 

John shook his head. "Daria's mom picked her up from school today. They went off for some kind of 'mother-daughter' bonding trip. I didn't even ask about the details. I find it's best just to stay away and make sure Jake doesn't catch the kitchen on fire."

Kevin stood up and looked over the cloth top of the vehicle. "Brittany said she got the idea for her belly ring from Daria. It's really hot. I didn't think brains were allowed to do things like that."

"They have to get special permission," John said, working to keep a straight face.

Kevin nodded. "Oh."

John could swear he almost saw smoke coming from Kevin's brain.

Making mental connections only Kevin could make, the football player asked, "Hey! Can she get special permission to let you back on the track team and get your letter?"

John felt the headache start. "Kevin, that was my decision, not hers."

"But dude, you were a track star! How are you going to run now?"

"The same way I ran before I joined the team."

"But man, nobody sees that."

"All the better."

"I don't get it. You're a jock so people will like you."

"Kevin, you're a jock so people will like you. I was a jock because I like to run. I don't need Ms. Morris or the team for that."

"You don't?"

Brittany sat back in her seat. "Kevie, John was running when we drove up."

"Oh, yeah." He looked at John. "Cool."

* * *

The TV showed a room full of chimpanzees at typewriters. An announcer's voiceover said, "Forget Shakespeare; these monkeys are all about love! The publishing secret of Heart-Throb Romances, next on _Sick, Sad World._"

When she and Daria got home, Helen was surprised to see John already there, watching television. She said, "You're early."

John shrugged. "I didn't see a real need to stay for extra study-hall, so I ran home."

Daria looked at her watch. "You didn't walk, that's for sure." 

"So, um…everything go according to plan?" John asked.

Daria's cheeks turned pink.

Helen answered, "Yes." She carefully reminded him, "Remember, it's a precaution, not an invitation."

* * *

_**Unmistakable in her red jacket and black skirt, Jane hopped out of the car and trotted inside the house.**_

Darius looked over from where he was seated on the sofa. "What was the verdict?"

Still feeling embarrassed, Jane replied, "Everything's in working order, but not working yet. And I'd love to switch places so you have to go through that."

"Like anyone would believe me as a guy or John as a girl. On top of that, I don't even want to imagine what Ms. Manson would think if she saw it," Daria said as she tore the last page from the notebook and dropped yet another perfect shot into the trash can.

"Crap." Daria tossed the old cover into the trash can as she went by it on the way to John's room. He was inside attempting to study math when she asked, "Can I steal one of your notebooks? I just killed mine."

"You trashed almost an entire notebook on failed stories?"

Daria rested her shoulder against the wall, followed by her head. "I suck. With the pressure on, I can't write a story."

"I don't get it. You don't have any trouble with deadlines for the school newspaper." 

"That's not creating, that's churning out essays with my opinions spattered all over them. I can almost do that in my sleep." 

"I'd suggest you take a break, but you only have a couple days left to finish it."

"I'll still talk to Mr. O'Neill tomorrow. Hopefully, I can get him to let me write about a new book. Speaking of which, how is your report coming?" 

"I'm so excited about it, I'm doing my math homework instead."

"Wow. And I thought I was procrastinating."

* * *

While Daria talked to Mr. O'Neill the next day, John leaned against the wall outside the door.

Mack MacKenzie walked up to him. "Hey, John." 

John nodded and said, "What's up?"

"Did you talk to Kevin yesterday?"

"Yeah, after school." John rested his head on one hand. "I'm sorry. What did he do?" 

"He wants to head over to Oakwood for a football game. He says you told him we don't need Coach Gibson or the rest of the team."

"I told him that I don't need Ms. Morris or the track team to be able to run."

Mack laughed. "Okay, that explains it."

Daria came out of Mr. O'Neill's room and leaned against the wall next to John. "He hates me. Hi, Mack."

John said, "He didn't let you change the assignment?"

"Oh, he changed it. Now I have to write about people I know and include a card game."

"You could write a story about a strip poker game that humiliates everyone involved," John suggested.

"Oh, thanks a lot." 

Jodie stepped up beside Mack. "What are you grinning about?"

* * *

John gently kissed Daria's cheek and said, "Sorry. You can find me in my room later."

He stood and left Daria sitting on one of the sofas, staring at the blank screen of the TV.

Helen carefully entered from the kitchen. "Daria, what's going on?"

Daria motioned to the TV. "Shh! I'm watching this."

Helen took a seat next to Daria. "You just drove John off. Something's been bothering you for several days now, ever since you went to the doctor. When do you begin taking the pills?"

"My cycle starts again in a little over a week."

"And it takes a full month to be effective. John's not…"

"No. Mom, outside of being a very big distraction, whether or not I have sex is not the problem."

"Then, what is?" 

Daria shifted her gaze to the carpet. "That assignment for Mr. O'Neill. All of my stories suck."

"Well, honey, I'm sure if you just give it another day or two..."

"I don't have that long. I wanted to write something meaningful, but it's all been done and done better. I can't write anything at all." 

"Maybe you need a change of direction. Don't try to write something meaningful, just something honest."

Daria looked up to Helen. "I can do that. I just look around and describe what I see."

"How about describing what you'd like to see or feel?" Helen then added with emphasis, "Honestly."

"I don't get it."

"Daria, it's the easiest thing in the world for you to be honest about what you see."

"That's almost a given."

Helen sighed at her daughter's stubbornness. So much like me at her age. She said, "What's hard for you is to be honest about your wishes and feelings. About the way you think things should be, not the way they are. You write things off with a cynical joke or sarcastic comment and nobody sees what you really want or believe in." 

"Everyone should be good at something."

"See what I mean? If you want a real challenge, write about what you'd like to happen. And be honest with yourself about it."

Daria nodded and said, "Sometimes, it feels like you skipped out on "Parenting 101", but at times like this, I wonder how you know so much about me."

* * *

_**Helen opened the door and said, "Oh, hi, sweetie," to her thirty-four year old daughter.**_

Stepping inside, Daria gave her mother a brief embrace and said, "How are you, Mom?"

"Pretty good. You know, every morning it's a little harder to get out of bed."

Daria's reply of, "For me, too," caused both of them to laugh as they went toward the kitchen.

"Ever since your father retired, he's developed such a wonderful perspective and seems to be getting younger every day. I should be jealous."

Daria shrugged. "Well, triple bypass surgery will do that, but we don't need you getting that kind of incentive."

Hearing the door, Helen looked back at the man entering with a bag of groceries in his arms. "Hi, John."

"Hi, Helen."

"You're not planning on cooking? You're our guest."

John laughed and said, "What kind of family get-together would it be if Jake and I didn't barely avert a disaster in the kitchen?"

While John started unpacking the bag, Helen poured coffee for Daria and herself. "I enjoyed your column this week."

Daria added milk to her coffee and said, "Some things haven't changed since high school. I get outraged, the readers get outraged, and nothing happens. But, at least I'm getting paid for saying the same things that got me threatened with suspension and ostracized from everyone else back then."

"Not to mention a few awards." Sitting down at the dining table, Helen gently laughed and said, "You're never going to change your attitude about some things, are you?" 

"Are you kidding?" Daria replied as she joined Helen.

Helen asked her son-in-law, "John, how's your work going?"

He said, "I'm almost finished with the library mural and will start hitting the spring art show circuit in a couple weeks."

"Are you going with this year, Daria?"

"Of course I am." Daria cast a faux-distrustful eye at John. "You can't let this guy out of your sight."

John jokingly fired back, "You can't leave her to prowl around town alone, either."

Helen carefully asked, "Has there been any further discussion about starting a family?"

Daria sighed. "Mom...you know we're not ready for kids and we're taking all necessary precautions to avoid them."

"And I think you know why," John said as Quinn entered with her newborn in its carrier and two older children already running at warp speed.

While the two children bickered, Quinn directed them to the living room. "You know where Grandma's TV is. Go watch something educational." She sat down at the table with Helen and Daria. "Hi, I'm exhausted." 

The Sick, Sad World announcer on TV said, "Breast implants for chickens..."

Quinn, Daria and John yelled in unison, "Not that!"

Helen asked, "How are you, Quinn?"

Quinn caringly looked down at her newborn. "Oh, you know, another day, another baby."

After waiting for everyone's chuckles to stop, Quinn added, "Daria, when are you going to join the club?"

"Why have my own when I can spoil yours?" Daria said.

"Because I think you secretly would like it." Quinn saw her father coming around the corner from the living room and said, "Hi, Dad. How are you?"

Jake grinned and made a face at the baby and waved his fingers. "Goo-goo."

The baby started crying immediately, forcing Quinn to pull the child close and gently stroke her hair. "Shh. It's only Grandpa."

Contrite, Jake said, "Sorry. I'm okay, Quinn. You know, kids, I was watching my old home movies…"

Daria faced her mother. "You said you burned those."

Helen sighed. "He made copies."

Jake slyly said, "And I have more hidden. Anyway, I was watching them and thinking that all three of you came out like your mother and I hoped."

John said, "Get out of here."

Jake was unfazed. "Daria's our crusader, trying to show the truth with her column every week. Quinn's bringing up her kids with all the enthusiasm she used to put into clothes. And you, John. Artist extraordinaire and my cooking partner."

Daria said, "Okay, we didn't make disasters out of our lives. But I still don't understand why we're all here."

Jake explained, "All that reminiscing made me think, 'Why don't we get together for a family card game, just like we used to?'"

Incredulous, Helen said, " Family card game?"

John asked, "What's that?" 

"We never played a family card game in our lives," Daria noted. "Though you did use board games as punishment." 

Quinn added, "Daria's right."

His temper rising, Jake growled, "Oh yeah, I remember asking my father to play 'go fish'…!" He slammed one fist onto to table. "No! He thought I should play 'war'…!"

Quinn half-rose and put her hand on Jake's upper arm. "Dad! Triple bypass!" 

Jake instantly calmed. "Oh, um, sorry. I still get carried away. So we never played a family card game, we can play one now. Spades?"

Quinn suggested, "Gin." 

"Poker?" was John's idea.

Helen came up with, "Hearts."

Quinn nodded, "Done." 

Jake pulled a deck of cards from his pocket and started shuffling them. "Okay. I'm going to play a game of hearts with my beautiful wife and my three great kids."

He looked at Daria, questioning.

Daria tapped the deck. "Deal."

* * *

John came up the stairs and poked his head in Daria's door. "Your mother's still drying her eyes down there. What did you write?"

"Something that made her happy."

"Run that by me again?" 

"She sees it as evidence I'm more optimistic about the future than I appear."

"That could take years to correct. What do you think it'll do to Mr. O'Neill?"

"With luck, it'll be fatal. Our papers are due tomorrow, so I don't have a choice." Daria tapped the sheaf of papers against her hand a couple times as she tried to think of a way to say something. "Um…I'd like you to read it, too. It's not my usual style and I, uh…just read it."

John accepted the story and sat down on Daria's bed to read. She sat next to him and carefully watched his reactions.

Finally, he finished reading and set the paper down in his lap. "Um, yeah. Not your usual style." He looked at Daria hopefully. "You seem to think that we have a future together."

Daria looked back at him with equal hope. After a long pause, she used one hand to finish turning his face toward hers and kissed him. "That's because I love you." 

Caught by surprise, John took several moments before realizing that he understood. He kissed her back and said, "I love you."

* * *

Some dialog from:  
_Write Where it Hurts_   
by Glenn Eichler  
_Monty Python and the Holy Grail_  
by Graham Chapman, John Cleese, Eric Idle, Terry Gilliam, Terry Jones and Michael Palin

Thanks to Steven Galloway and Lawndale Stalker for some quick ideas.

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.

March 2006.


	17. Summer Incoming

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the seventeenth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Summer Incoming**

"There just seems something inherently wrong with registering for classes during summer," Daria Morgendorffer said as she waited in line at the Registrar's Office of Lawndale Community College.

Behind her in line and quietly admiring her black t-shirt and denim shorts, John Lane said, "It's getting us out of half a day of activities planned by your mother."

"Oh, yeah," Daria replied dryly, "How could I forget?"

"Nail polish fumes from Quinn's room leaking into yours again?"

"We've got to convince my parents to install a fume hood in there."

"Finding one in pink is going to be a problem."

"That's what paint is for. You might know a little bit about that."

"But, what would be my artistic vision for it?"

"Single, instead of double from breathing fumes."

"Hmm."

The line shuffled forward and the two followed. Daria pulled at John's black, v-neck shirt and motioned to the other students in line. "Maybe we shouldn't have dressed up."

John looked at the very casual clothes, including beachwear, on display. "Yeah, I feel kind of overdressed. I guess we can make amends tomorrow."

A woman wearing a string-bikini top exited the office and walked past. Daria said, "On second thought, I'm fine the way I am."

Hiding his disappointment, John said, "Yeah, that's not your style."

* * *

Comparing their registration receipts as they walked to the bus stop, Daria said, "Not too bad. My Creative Writing class is 9:00 to 9:50 and your Sculpture class is 10:00 to 10:50." 

"And, we get high school credit."

"Without darkening the hallowed halls of Lawndale High. Plus, we don't have to show up at Dad's until 1:00 to be his slave labor for the rest of the day."

"Better than getting stuck as PR intern at your Mom's law firm, like Quinn."

"That would be a fate worse than death, but she'll love it. Anyway, taking the bus ride to Dad's into account, we have a good hour and a half to ourselves every day."

"Well, we do need to fit lunch in there somewhere."

"Always thinking with your stomach."

"Better than the other thing guys are always accused of thinking with."

Daria put her arm around his waist. "Good point."

They were startled by a high-pitched "Eap!" from the bus stop, followed by Stacy Rowe complaining to Ted Dewitt-Clinton, "You said nobody would see us here!"

John immediately saw the effect that proximity to Stacy and the rest of the Fashion Club had on Ted. From the designer tennis shirt to his khaki shorts, he looked like he'd stepped off the "Summer Casual" issue of GQ magazine. John said, "Dammit, our cover is blown. Now we'll have to kill you."

Stacy's eyes grew wide as Daria added, "We'll have to wait, too many witnesses here."

Ted shifted his eyes from John to Daria and back before laughing. "You're kidding! That's funny."

Stacy relaxed and moved her hand over her mouth as she giggled.

Daria faced John. "We're losing our touch."

"You'd think that our combined effect would be greater, not less."

Ted laughed again and said, "You two are so funny. Are you taking classes?"

John leaned his head toward Daria, saying, "Creative Writing…" and then leaning his head way from her, adding, "…and Sculpture."

Daria asked, "And you?"

"I'm taking a photography class and Stacy a theater costuming class," Ted answered.

Stacy pleaded, "Please don't tell Quinn you saw me here."

"Saw who here?" Daria replied.

Stacy happily exclaimed, "Thank you!"

They stood in silence until the bus arrived and they filed on, with Ted and Stacy sitting near the front and Daria and John going to the back. As they sat down, John said, "We are losing our touch. You agreed right away."

Daria said, "She might be dressing him up like a Ken doll, but if Ted's getting Stacy more interested in learning, more power to him. With Quinn quietly studying more after her 'brain phase', that's half the Fashion Club secretly going over to the dark side. Why would I stop that?"

John kissed her cheek and said, "I love it when you're evil."

* * *

"So, um, what do we do?" Daria asked her father, who was seated on the opposite side of his desk. 

"Well, Kiddo, I figure that you'll help with new ideas for the clients," Jake said, and then turned his attention to John, sitting in a chair next to Daria, "And John can do the visuals to present them. I'm sure with your brains and his talent, I can really wow the clients."

John asked, "Okay, so what can we do until then?"

Jake turned his computer monitor to face the teens. "How good are you at Minesweeper?"

* * *

Arriving at home, John, Daria and Jake were surprised to see Quinn watching the local television news, while holding the VCR remote at the ready. 

John looked around worriedly and said, "Quinn watching the news. Which sign of the Apocalypse was that?"

Daria said, "Can't be sure. Quinn recording the news is a sure sign we've entered an alternate universe."

Quinn smugly said to them, "Ha, ha. I'm going to be on the news tonight."

"That's great!" Jake exclaimed. Suddenly worried, he said, "For what?"

"Oh, I helped Julie, that's my boss at Mom's work, do a press conference. She says I have a real camera presence."

"In other words, you're cute," John said.

"Well, duh." Quinn responded. "With a little makeup, I'm sure Daria would look good on camera, too."

"I'll pass. Wouldn't want you accused of nepotism," was Daria's reply.

"Oh! There it is!" Quinn shouted and pushed the start button.

On the TV, Quinn stood with a young blonde in her mid-twenties and read several prepared statements in response to questions.

Talking on the cordless phone, Helen Morgendorffer entered the room while saying, "Of course we're recording it. We'll have a copy ready when you get here. Should I also make a copy for you to take back to Rita?"

Daria sidestepped next to John. "Uh-oh, that doesn't sound good."

Helen said, "We'll be waiting. Okay, good bye, and we'll see you then."

Quinn turned off the recording and said, "I'm going to be famous."

John said, "Quinn, except for maybe Jodie Landon, I doubt if anyone you know watched that."

Not missing a beat, Quinn said, "Then I'll just have to make copies!"

"Speaking of copies," Helen said. "I need you to make one for your grandmother and Aunt Rita."

Jake grinned. "Hey, you can make one for my mother, too!"

John asked Daria, "Is this sounding like what I think it is?"

"Pretty sure." Daria said to Helen, "Is Grandma Tess coming to visit?"

Jake's face drained of color.

"She'll be here Friday."

Jake dropped heavily onto one of the sofas. "Friday?"

"Yes Jake, Friday. She wants to meet John, since she was sick and missed Erin's wedding."

John asked, "Me?"

* * *

Stepping off the bus the following morning, Daria asked John, "So, what are you going to be up to while I'm in class?" 

He held up a sketchpad. "Thought I'd hang around the Student Union and watch the freak show."

"Isn't that where they're having the Student Activities Fair?"

"Yep. I can sit back and watch the moochers ignore the club tables while getting to the free food."

"Which, I'm sure, you plan to partake in."

"Just getting into the college spirit."

"I've always wondered about college spirits. Where do they come from? Do they run classified ads in the cemetery?"

John grinned at the idea forming in his mind. "Zombies in the Student Union. Thanks."

"Let me know how fresh the brains are."

"Sure. What about you? Any plans while I'm in class?"

"Check out the library and hope the roof isn't about to collapse."

* * *

Leaning back in a chair set against a wall, John quickly drew different students entering the activity fair, while thinking, _These people really give new definition to "summer casual."_

The other students milled around tables, munched on the cheap snacks provided and talked. At sixteen, he felt a little out of place among the older students, but knowing Daria was also on campus prevented the feeling of loneliness that he'd felt on campus the year before during his life drawing class.

A sudden influx of new students made John check his watch. "Oops, better get going." He closed his notepad and dropped the chair onto the floor before heading off to the Liberal Arts Building.

Inside the assigned room, several students were already seated, ranging in age from early twenties to mid or late sixties. John took a seat and waited as several more students filed in.

At exactly 10:00, a large woman with blond hair entered and said, "Hey everybody, I'm Shirley Miller and I'm here to teach you how to take it off or put it on to get the shape you want."

_She's either going to be interesting, or I'm going to want to kill her within an hour._

* * *

"Not a problem; that's what I'm here for," Daria said to the rotund man with a bad hairpiece seated at her father's desk. 

"Thanks, Daria," Jake said.

"Sure, Dad." Daria turned and walked back to the desk she shared with John.

As she neared it, Daria quietly said to him, "Somehow, I vaguely feel dirty." When the telephone rang, she added, "Your turn. I answered it yesterday."

He watched Jake excitedly talking with the client for a second before picking up the phone. "Morgendorffer Consulting."

A man's voice said, "Jake?"

"He's with a client, can I help you?"

"Well, um, tell Jake that Tiffany's Dream was pulled from the third when the owner's daughter wanted to ride the filly with her friends instead. That bumped the odds for Dancing With Dogs to 3:2."

"Uh, sure. I'll make sure he gets the message." John hung up the phone and stared at it. "Gee, I wonder if Jake will take us on one of those field trips."

"Excuse me?"

"That must've been his bookie."

"Oh. Is he threatening to break Dad's leg?"

"Nah, just a change of odds. Um, didn't Quinn say that she was going horseback riding with the Fashion Club this afternoon?"

"Since when do you pay attention to things like that?"

"I think I just found out how Tiffany's dad paid for the horse."

"Keep that on file. Back to where we were before Dad interrupted. Mrs. Sanger sounds like she knows her stuff."

"Unlike the faculty at Lawndale High."

"Exactly. Gives me hope that college will be a step up from high school."

John nodded. "Same here, if I can survive Mrs. Miller's puns."

"John!" Jake called from the desk. "You're my Visual Design Intern, come take a look at the new logo Mr. Boswick came up with for his restaurant, Oscar's Wieners."

"Be right there," John said to Jake, and then whispered to Daria, "Wish me luck."

"You're gonna need it," she whispered back.

John looked at the design and said, "You might run into a little trouble with the Academy if you use their trophy design like that."

Mr. Boswick frowned. "I'm trying to play off my name."

_Oscar. I never would've guessed._ On the same sheet of paper, John talked as he sketched. "But, if you change the design a little, add the hot dog here, and, hmm…here, maybe put a smile on the trophy's face."

"Oooh, that's great." Mr. Boswick rose and shook Jake's hand. "Mr. Morgendorffer, you've got a deal."

"I do? Oh, yeah, a pleasure doing business with you," Jake replied, coming out of his confusion.

"Wish I could find interns who think like that," Mr. Boswick added.

John went back to the shared desk and sat down, looking at his hand. "Yeah, I feel kind of dirty, too."

"And we have a whole summer of this to look forward to."

"I hope your dad doesn't get the bright idea to ask Trent for jingles."

Daria sternly looked into his eyes. "Don't even think it."

* * *

"Mo-om, why can't we put Grandma in Daria's room?" Quinn plaintively asked Helen. 

Helen looked at the gray padding in her oldest daughter's room and sighed. "Because I'd never hear the end of it. Daria, your door stays closed, and John, I'm asking you not to be in there while my mother is visiting."

Still fighting for her territory, Quinn suggested, "What about John's room? That's where you put the Yeagers."

"That's right. Now, it's your turn," Helen retorted. "You can stay with Daria in her room."

Daria asked, "Why can't Quinn sleep on the sofa like John did?"

Helen glared back at Daria. "Because it wouldn't be proper. Quinn stays in your room, and that's final."

"Mom, what about my clothes?" Quinn demanded.

"Just move what you need for the weekend over to Daria's closet."

"There's not enough room!"

"Quinn, her closet's only half full."

Daria said, "I prefer to think of it as half empty."

Quinn threw her hands up. "Like I said, there's not enough room!"

Hands on her hips, Helen addressed Quinn. "Mother's going to be here tonight and I want things ready for her, so get what you want to wear over the weekend moved before we leave for the office."

"But…"

"Quinn, it's only one weekend. You can survive on half a closet worth of clothes."

"But…"

"If you want any more space, you'll have to negotiate a deal with Daria for it."

Seeing Daria's predatory smile, Quinn capitulated. "Okay, half a closet it is."

* * *

"Jake, not now. You can have the martinis after Mother's gone to bed." 

Jake clutched the full pitcher in both hands like a teddy bear and pleaded with his eyes.

She held firm. "Later. I promise."

Reluctant, Jake put the mixed drink in the refrigerator. "You promise."

"Yes dear, after Mother goes to bed. Now please, let me finish dinner."

Sitting on the sofa with Daria next to him, John said, "I can't believe your Mom kicked me out of the kitchen."

Daria said, "When Mom's on one of her 'I have to cook to show how good of a mother I am' frenzies, it's safer to just stay away. Far away."

John shrugged and scratched Zachary's head. The cat purred and tilted his head to direct John's attention to just the right spot. John said, "At least we don't have to lock you two up this time."

On the television, an announcer said, "Dresses for Chickens? Those are some Grade 'A' Fancy Eggs, next on _Sick, Sad World._"

Quinn looked closely at the televised image and said, "Eww. That dress is so last year. How could she do that to that poor bird?"

Daria shrugged and said, "I suppose it's better than the mosquito control guy a couple months ago that dressed them up as Beefeaters."

John groaned and rubbed his forehead as he recited the tag-line, "Cross-dressing sentinel chickens."

Quinn faced them, trying to figure out if they were kidding or not.

Helen called out, "Change the channel! Mother will be here any minute."

Using the remote to switch to an all-news channel, John asked, "Does she always get like this when her mother visits?"

Jake had entered the living room. Hearing the question, he answered, "Helen's a little on edge since her mother hasn't seen the house. Tess…never cared much for our old house."

Daria said, "Dad, she called it, 'A step up from a cardboard box on the street.'"

Jake coughed and said, "Yeah, something like that. Helen's also a tiny bit concerned about her meeting John."

"Did you warn her I was here?" John asked. "I remember Amy was just a little bit surprised by my sudden appearance at Erin's wedding."

"Oh yes, Tess knows that you're here and she's excited to meet you. But, um…"

"Here it comes," Daria commented. "What did you leave out?"

"Well, um…"

Quinn giggled. "Grandma doesn't know that you two are an item!"

Commenting after seeing a twitch in Jake's cheek, John said, "Isn't that kind of an important detail to leave out?"

Jake pulled at his shirt collar while explaining, "You see, it's like this. Tess was never happy with Helen and me living together before we got married."

"So John and I will have to pretend otherwise all weekend," Daria summed up.

"Uh, that's right, Kiddo."

"Think you could've given us a little more warning?"

"I suppose…"

The doorbell rang and all heads turned to the door. Daria added to her statement, "Than just before Grandma arrived?"

Quinn ran for the door. "I'll get it!" She reached the door and swung it open. "Grandma!"

Outside was a well-dressed lady with surprisingly deep red hair. She was slightly stooped with age, but carried herself with dignity. At her feet were two suitcases and walking away was the taxi driver returning to his car. She smiled and said, "Quinn! You look so pretty, as always."

"Thanks, Grandma. Come on in."

Jake appeared behind Quinn and said, "I'll get your bags, Mrs. Barksdale."

She stepped aside and let him through, saying, "Please be careful, between the train and that dreadful driver, I don't know how much damage they've done and they don't need any more."

"I'll take them to your room," Jake replied. As he started up the stairs, John could read his lips saying, "You old bat."

Helen rushed around from the kitchen. "Mother, it's so good to see you. How was your trip?"

"Horrible. The train ride was bumpy and the cab driver was a lunatic."

Helen discreetly embraced her mother. "Oh, that's terrible. But, you're here safe and sound. Dinner will be ready in just a little bit."

Tess returned the gesture. "That's nice. So, where's Daria and this boy you've taken in?"

"That's our cue." Daria stood and pulled John up with her. "Hi, Grandma. This is John."

John waved and said, "Um, hi Mrs. Barksdale."

"You're a handsome young man. Welcome to the family."

"Thanks."

Tess said, "And hello, Daria. I was pleasantly surprise by how you looked at Erin's wedding."

"Um, thank you."

"The offer still stands to change your hair."

Daria placed one hand on the bottom edge of her auburn locks. "I'm kind of attached to it."

"Too bad."

Jealous at losing a warm lap and attention, Zachary jumped onto the sofa back and stretched.

"What a lovely cat," Tess said.

"And he knows it," Daria confirmed as the feline strutted back and forth.

"They came with me," John said. "That's Zachary, and Taylor's sleeping in the sunlight over by the sliding glass door."

The other cat flicked an ear and slit open one eye at hearing his name, and then decided that sleep was much more important that another one of those strange human gatherings.

Jake came back to the top of the stairs. "You'll be staying in Quinn's room and she and Daria will share."

Slightly irritated, Tess said, "Helen, when you bought the house, you told me you had a spare bedroom."

"It's not spare anymore; I'm using it," John said.

"Oh. Well, that makes sense. Quinn, will you please show me? I'd like to freshen up before dinner."

Quinn waved and said, "Sure, Grandma. This way," and turned to the stairs.

Daria sniffed and said, "I smell smoke."

"Same here," John checked toward the kitchen. "Uh-oh."

Helen followed his gaze and cried out, "Dinner!" before racing back to face the wisps of smoke coming from the stovetop.

Daria said, "Grandma, why don't you finish changing while we figure out if dinner can be rescued, or find out which restaurant still has reservations open tonight."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Helen breathed a loud sigh. "It took some talking, but I managed to get reservations for six on this short of notice." 

Daria said, "Hmm. We haven't been to Pizza Forest in a while."

Quinn frowned and said, "Bite your tongue."

"No, Daria. It's not Pizza Forest. I wanted someplace a little more tasteful for mother."

John said, "In Lawndale?"

"Yes, in Lawndale," Helen confirmed. "We have a reservation for Chez Pierre in one hour. Now, go get ready."

Quinn beamed and said, "Oh, thank you. Grandma will be so thrilled." Bouncing, Quinn went to her room.

Daria turned to John and said, "Chez Pierre?"

John half-smiled and commented, "Just imagine how horrified Quinn will be if any of her Fashion Club friends are there on dates."

* * *

Holding back from Helen's red SUV, John asked Daria, "This is going to be a tight fit. Are we sure we want this much family togetherness?" 

"Come on, you need to experience a full-blown family outing disaster."

"Didn't the camping trip count as a disaster?"

Daria flashed an odd smile, as if remembering something. John thought, _Something I said or did under the influence of those berries is going to come back to bite me, I just know it._

Answering John, she said, "Okay, extended family disaster."

"How about Erin's wedding? It looked like a bomb went off in the hall."

"But, we avoided the worst of the carnage when we made the getaway with Amy." She gently pushed him forward. "March. I'm not getting into that car without backup."

"Ah, now your motives come through."

Helen yelled from the vehicle, "Daria, John! Don't dawdle, or we'll be late."

Still being pushed along by Daria, John asked, "Can I at least ride in the back?"

"Why should you get off easy?"

* * *

Speaking in a fake French accent, the _maitre d'_ said, "Follow me." 

The Morgendorffers were led to a banquet table that could seat eight. The _maitre d'_ carefully set out menus at six seats before presenting the wine menu to Jake. "Our wines, sir."

"Thanks, my man," Jake said brightly while taking the folder as the _maitre d'_ made a fast exit.

Tess whispered to Helen, "I see his manners haven't improved any."

She answered, "Um, with our busy lives, we hardly get a chance for formal dining. He's just a little out of practice."

John tilted his menu toward Daria. "Um, can you translate? My smattering of Spanish doesn't help much."

On his other side, Quinn said, "I can help."

"You know French?"

"No, but I've had dinner here often enough." She started pointing at menu items. "That's beef with that really good yellow sauce, that's, I don't know - I never order it because it's the cheapest thing on the menu."

Daria said, "That's a steak with wild mushrooms."

"Oh, thanks Daria," Quinn said. Commenting more on the menu, she said, "That's scallops, really fishy."

Daria corrected, "Quinn, that's a petite cut of veal, not scallops."

"Really? Why doesn't it say that?"

"Um, that's what the _veau_ in the name means."

Amused, John watched the two argue over his menu and kept quiet.

Quinn moved down the list, "That's just a soup that tastes like fish for some reason."

"_Bouillabaisse_ is a fish soup."

Quinn rolled her eyes and said, "And that's the pork chops, though you have to order the applesauce separately."

"Quinn, the pork filets are meant to be eaten without applesauce."

"But, they've never said anything when they brought me the applesauce."

"It's their job to provide what you ask for. But, I bet they were laughing their asses off every time they got out of view."

"What about when I said the soup was too fishy?"

"Considering that fish is the main ingredient, probably even more."

Quinn slid back in shock. "No!"

"Sorry," Daria said with a little sympathy.

"From some of Monique's old waitress stories," John said, "they'll do that."

Still in shock, Quinn said, "Oh my God, all of us in the Fashion Club…"

Daria said, "Well Quinn, you now have a choice. Take care not to embarrass yourself anymore, but not tell the rest of the Fashion Club, thus giving you an advantage. Or, tell the others, so that collectively, you're not all embarrassed."

The waiter approached the table and asked the adults, "Will you be ordering from the wine list?"

Tess closed the wine menu and said, "We'll have the _Château Orléans_ 92, please."

"What a wonderful choice, madam," the waiter said as he wrote down the request.

Jake's eye twitched, followed by a muscle in his jaw as he clenched his mouth shut.

John said to Daria, "Why do I have the feeling that's rather expensive wine?"

Quinn replied, "The cheapest wine on the list is something like $25 a bottle."

"And you know this, how?" Daria asked.

"Don't be nosy," Quinn shot back.

"That's gonna cost you," John said.

Quinn looked at her watch. "I don't think so." Leaning behind John, she whispered to Daria, "Don't you usually have a pill to take right about now?"

Daria let a small frown slip. "Deal."

The waiter stepped over to them. "Ladies, gentlemen. What do you wish to drink?"

Daria said, "Hot tea, please."

"Yes, m'dame."

John said, "Ice tea."

"Yes, sir."

Quinn said, "I'll have a die…uh, just water, thank you."

"Yes, ma'am."

Daria quietly said, "She learns quickly."

John asked, "Does that mean you're a good influence?"

"Dammit."

After the waiter departed, Daria unconsciously felt the birth control pack in her pocket and said, "I'll be back in a minute."

Quinn stood and said, "I'll go with you."

As they walked away, Tess said, "It's nice to see them acting more like real sisters."

John nodded. _That is, if real sisters make deals that cause Wall Street brokers to look like lightweights._

Tess turned her attention to John. "So, young man. I understand you're something of an artist."

_Please don't take too long._

* * *

"Honey, since my mother's our guest, I'll handle the check," Helen said as she intercepted the waiter's hand. She quickly dropped her card onto the tray without looking and said to him, "Thank you." 

"I'll be back in a moment, ma'am."

"Good save," John said to Daria, glad that the long dinner and probing questions from Tess were over.

Daria nodded. "Though Dad's going to blow his top when he sees the credit card bill. But by then, Grandma will safely be in another state."

"Too bad we can't be."

* * *

"Quit your complaining, you spoiled brats," John said to the pair of cats twining around his feet. After a couple of side steps to avoid the felines, John reached for two bowls and poured the cats' breakfast into them. They sniffed at the offering before starting to eat. "Poor, starving beasts." 

Already dressed, Tess said from the edge of the kitchen, "You're up early, young man."

He placed the cat food back into a lower cabinet and said, "I'm about to go running and it's a lot cooler this early in the morning."

"After your story about not continuing on the track team, I'm surprised you're still practicing."

John shrugged. "I like to run."

"And it keeps you in good shape, which I'm sure is popular with the girls. Do you have a girl in particular that you like?"

_Now I know what a deer looking at an oncoming car at night feels like. _"Um…"

"Like Daria?"

"Uh…"

Stalking toward him like a patient predator, Tess said, "I wasn't hatched yesterday and you two don't do a good job of hiding it."

Resigned to the fact that she'd figured it out, John nodded. "Yes, Daria's my girlfriend."

"Helen and Jake lived together for years before they finally got married." Tess stopped, folded her arms and looked down her nose at John. "But I'm still surprised that they allowed you to move in."

Feeling alone, John explained as he stepped back, "Because what we told you was true. If they hadn't allowed me to stay, I'd be in the foster care system now. The only difference was that Daria argued my case to Helen."

Following John's backpedal, Tess pressed on. "And Helen is letting you stay in the room right next to Daria."

"That was the only available room, unless she put me in the dining room."

"Which I'm sure is hardly used."

"I would've slept in the garage if they'd asked." John glanced back toward the sliding glass door. "I'll always be grateful that they took me in."

"To live with your girlfriend."

"If you put it that way, yes."

"I was hoping that Helen and Jake had dropped all that hippie immorality, but I can see that they've passed it onto their children."

"Mrs. Barksdale, Daria and I…"

Scolding, Tess said, "Don't lie to me. I raised three daughters during the 'free love' sixties. I know what goes through young people's minds."

John stopped, forcing Tess to do the same. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but this is the nineties. Daria and I may be tempted, but we have many more reasons to resist. It drives Daria and me nuts at times, but Helen's watched over us like a hawk and has lost a lot of sleep worrying. You're insulting your own daughter if you think she's encouraging anything but responsibility, and insulting your granddaughter if you think she's being anything but that." He then stepped past Tess, adding, "I'm going for a run now, probably a long one."

Tess spun around and said to his back, "Don't walk away from me, young man."

"Watch me," John said without looking back. He swiftly stepped outside and started a fast jog toward downtown.

* * *

_People are going to keep assuming we're sleeping together as long as I live there, so I've got to quit getting so mad about it._ The rhythm of John's footfall soothed his anger and the physical exertion burned off the adrenaline hit. Traffic was light along the downtown streets and the sidewalks he followed were almost deserted. _Dammit. I'm probably going to be neck deep in it when I get back._

Seeing the telltale black van of Mystik Spiral parked outside the McGrundy's Pub, John slowed down to a walk and took the chance to catch his breath from the hard run. Coming around the side of the van, he saw his brother Trent carrying band equipment from the bar.

Trent set an amplifier into the van and waved. "Hey, Johnny."

Crouched inside the vehicle, Max shifted the amplifier to one side as he said, "Hey, how's it going?"

John stopped and rested his hands on his knees. "Sucks."

"What's wrong?" Trent asked.

"I just stormed out on Daria's grandmother."

"That can't be good."

"It's not. She thought Daria and I were, you know…"

"Um…"

"But let's face it. It is a logical assumption."

"Well yeah, but not if somebody knows you two."

"And then she started ragging on Helen. I know I should've just explained things, but I got mad and left before I said something really stupid."

"Whoa," Jesse, another member of Mystik Spiral, said from the back corner of the van. "You stood up for Daria's mom?"

"Huh, I guess I did."

Trent leaned back against the van. "I think you're where you need to be. Guess it's a good time to tell you."

Concerned, John said, "Tell me what?"

"We're going on the road for a couple months."

Jesse said, "Yeah. Get our sound out to more people."

Max added, "We're gonna rock the east coast from Boston to Savannah."

"You've got gigs that far?" John asked, somewhat incredulous

Trent scratched his neck. "Um, I think we do. Anyway, we're leaving next weekend."

"Don't forget the Morgendorffers' phone number. Just in case."

"I got it written down." Trent showed John the back of his left hand.

"Trent, that's gonna wash off."

"Nah. I had it tattooed on."

_To you, I'm sure that makes sense._ "Well, at least you won't lose it."

"That's the idea."

John stood upright. "I suppose I should be heading back to face the looming disaster."

Trent shrugged. "You and Daria make a good team. You'll think of something."

"I wish I had your confidence. I'll make sure I stop by your place before you leave."

"Okay, Johnny. See you later."

John started a medium paced jog to retrace his steps back to Glen Oaks Drive.

Trent quietly said, "I wish I had as much confidence in me and the band as I do in you."

* * *

Surprised at seeing Quinn waiting outside with uncombed hair, John quickened his pace to cover the last couple blocks. 

Quinn waved and yelled, "There you are!"

He came to a heavy stop and said, "If you're out here to flag me down, it must be bad."

"Grandma had a screaming fit at Mom and Dad, which woke me and Daria up. Then, things kind of got loud."

"What's the situation, now?"

"Mom and Grandma are in the kitchen, not talking to each other, Dad's in the living room working on a martini pitcher, and Daria's in her room."

"Thanks for the update. I better go in and face the fallout."

"John, Mom and Dad really stood up for you."

* * *

The house was deathly silent when John opened the door. Jake was staring at a baseball game on television, with an empty pitcher in front of him on the coffee table. John stepped over to him, and after a delay, Quinn snuck in and went upstairs. 

John stopped next to the sofa. "Hi, Jake."

Unsteadily turning, Jake slurred, "Oh! Hey, John! You missed all the fireworks!"

"Um, so I heard."

"Yeah, you'd think that you and Daria were in the commune like Helen and I were…smoking…"

"Jake!" Helen called as she rushed from the kitchen. "We don't need to go into that much detail."

* * *

Daria sat on her bed, back against the wall and knees drawn up to support her diary. A cat was on each side, resting against her. 

_**I think we can kiss any chance of Grandma contributing to our college funds goodbye after today. She was up to her old tricks, waiting to get John alone to confront him about being my boyfriend and living here. John told her off before going out to run (can't blame him) and things went Barksdale in a hurry after that.** _

**But then, something very strange happened. Grandma's "divide and conquer" didn't work and we defended John together, even Quinn. They also stood up for me…despite all of Mom's paranoia, she defended (and I can't believe she used such a word) my virtue the loudest.**

After a couple soft taps, Quinn cracked open the door to say, "John's back."

Daria closed her diary and set it aside. She told Quinn, "Thanks," and then said to Zachary and Taylor, "Sorry guys, I'm getting up."

They sleepily emitted small meows of complaint as Daria slid away and stood. She amended her comment with, "It's okay. You can continue your meditation of universal truths without me."

John and her parents were standing together in the kitchen when Daria came downstairs with Quinn. Joining them, Daria could see her grandmother was still seated at the table, pointedly staring out of the window.

Deliberately, Tess turned to face the family. "I see where I stand. Helen, may I please use your telephone?"

"Of course, Mother," Helen said.

Tess picked it up. "As soon as I can change my train, I'll leave. I know when I'm not welcome."

"Mother…"

"Don't try; you've made your choice. That goes for all of you."

* * *

John had followed Helen and stopped her on the stair landing, looking out through the large, arched window to the front yard. "I'm sorry I got mad." 

Helen bowed her head. "John, Mother has exasperated us for years. But I do need to hear your side of what happened."

John told her, including the reason why he left so quickly.

The story elicited a small smile from Helen. She put her hands on both his shoulders and looked into his eyes. "It takes a lot of practice to hold your temper when people you care about are attacked, and I'm getting a good idea of how much you care about Daria. You could've done better, but you certainly could've done worse. Especially when dealing with my mother."

"Quinn said that you and Jake defended me. Thanks."

"As you did Daria and me. My thanks, also."

* * *

After Jake passed by his room, carrying Tess's luggage, John stepped out to see the matriarch one more time. He asked, "Do you really believe what you were saying about Daria and me?" 

She bitterly replied, "I don't say what I don't mean."

"Is there anything we can do to change your mind?"

"Why should I change my mind when the truth is staring me in the face?"

John struggled to stay his anger. "The truth is looking at you, but you're not seeing it. Things really are the way we said they were. Daria and I are tempted…a lot. But, we have good reasons not to give in, plus Helen and Jake to help us, as well as Quinn."

Tess snorted in distain.

"You really don't know Daria, or any of them, do you?"

"How can I, when I hardly ever see them?" Tess strode away, leaving John standing alone.

He said to himself, "You would be proud of them, if you ever could see them."

* * *

After hanging the last of her clothes back in her closet, Quinn went back to Daria's room and said, "You know, John, you're turning into one of those, uh…whatchacallit…cat list things." 

Seated next to him on the floor next to her bed, Daria said, "Catalyst."

"That's it!"

Daria held John's hand. "That's very good, Quinn. He certainly has changed things around here…for the better."

"No kidding," Quinn replied. "How often have all of us agreed on anything?"

John gently squeezed Daria's hand and said, "I really felt good that everyone could agree on Daria and me."

She leaned her head onto his shoulder. "I liked it, too."

"But, I still wish I could've made a better impression on your grandmother," John said after a sigh.

Daria informed him, "Probably half the times we've been together, somebody's left early. Even after all this time, we hardly know Grandma. I don't even think Mom knows her very well anymore."

John nodded. "And I got the impression that it's the same the other way."

"Kind of sad," Quinn observed, "when you think about it. A mother and child not knowing each other."

* * *

Later that evening, John sat in his room and dialed a number on the cordless phone. 

After half a dozen rings, Amanda Lane reached the phone in her cottage at Ashfield Community for the Arts. "Hello?"

"Hi, Mom. Thought I'd call and get caught up with you."

* * *

Details on the Chez Pierre menu are from _The Daria Database_ by Peggy Nicoll. 

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

April 2006


	18. Lessons

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the eighteenth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Lessons**

Hearing the front door slam downstairs, John Lane rolled off his bed, where he'd been lying on his stomach to watch television. From the TV, an announcer said, "They all want a bite of you, but there's not enough of you to go around. Bug Wars! Next, on _Sick, Sad World._

Heavy boots stomped up the stairs and down the hall. He watched his girlfriend, Daria Morgendorffer, stride past his door without pausing. By the time he reached it, he heard her door close, followed by a click of the lock. 

"Sounds like the driving lesson didn't go well," John said to himself. After looking down the hall toward Daria's room for a few more seconds, he stepped out and then walked downstairs. The living room was empty, so John quietly walked around to the kitchen. Behind the counter, Daria's father was holding a bottle of gin in one shaking hand and a bottle of vermouth in the other, attempting to pour them into a pitcher.

John asked, "Jake, aren't you supposed to measure those?"

"Gah!" Jake jumped and splashed the liquors across the counter. Recovering, he went back to pouring and said, "Sometimes, you just need to eyeball it."

"What happened during Daria's driving lesson?"

Jake went to the freezer, pulled out the ice drawer and took it back to the counter, dumping the contents into the pitcher. "Um…" Jake mumbled as he stirred the drink. 

"What happened?"

Jake scooped half of a bottle of olives into the pitcher. "J…John, I'm really not ready to talk about it. It was…" He picked up the pitcher and drank directly from it.

"Okay, later," John said in frustration. He left the kitchen and started back upstairs. Midway up, he paused. "Jake's driving lessons make me nervous and I already have practice. With Daria's coordination…this is not going to be pretty."

* * *

Later that evening, Daria slowly opened John's door. "Um, hi."

Sitting on the floor under a window, John set his sketchbook aside. "Hey."

Daria entered and sat on the bed. "I just can't practice driving with Dad in the car. I'm not that bad, but once he loses it, I can't concentrate and…bam, what little driving skills I have vanish." 

"The car's in the driveway, intact. So, it wasn't a complete disaster."

She snorted and said, "True, but I'm not learning with him. We mostly just scare the hell out of each other."

"He…looked, uh…" John said. Realizing that glossing things over would only make matters worse, he added after a pause, "…upset. Look, I've had more practice than you and Jake gets hyper when I drive. Don't let his nerves get to you."

"Easier said than done. Seeing him try to hide under the dashboard doesn't do a lot for my self-esteem." 

John moved over and sat next to her. "I'd help if I could."

Daria faintly smiled and leaned against him. "Thanks. But, you're not over eighteen and you don't have a regular license, either."

"Good point. But, I've ridden in the Tank with Max at the wheel."

"You were also crammed in the back behind the equipment so you couldn't see what was coming."

"Better that way." 

"Like I said." Daria sighed and flopped back on the bed. "My only real option is Mom, if I can ever get her away from that exploding ketchup case."

"You could tell her that giving you driving lessons is cheaper than all the vodka and vermouth Jake's been buying."

Daria looked at him through narrowed eyes. "You're not helping."

* * *

"There you go, young man," Helen said to the pimply-faced delivery driver as she handed him several bills. "Keep the change."

With a nasal voice, the boy with "Artie" written on his uniform said, "Thanks, ma'am," and handed her a pizza box.

Helen closed the door and walked back to the kitchen, angrily glaring at Jake asleep on the sofa as she passed him. "Dinner's here," she told Daria, Quinn and John as she sat down and opened the box.

Daria and John each grabbed slices and dropped them onto plates. In a single motion, Quinn deftly removed the cheese from a slice and slid it out, dropping the cheese like a shadow. She then plucked the toppings free and put them on her slice.

Lastly, Helen picked up a slice and ripped a bite from it before it reached her plate. 

Daria whispered, "Let's get this over with," to John before saying to Helen, "Mom, um, about my driving lessons…"

"I can't believe your father," Helen bemoaned. "How are you ever going to learn to drive when he does that?"

"That's the point I'm trying to bring up. He's not the best driving teacher."

Tossing her head toward her sleeping husband, Helen said, "Certainly not when he's like that."

Daria inhaled in preparation of her mother's response. "Mom, could you swing some time free to give me driving lessons?"

Helen shook her head. "Daria. You know I'm swamped right now. This is one of the biggest cases I've been given by the firm. They're counting on me."

"Can I count on you?"

"What? Of course you can count on me, Sweetie. It's…" Helen noticed all conscious eyes were on her. She sighed and said, "I'll pick you up from your father's office tomorrow and we'll start your driving lessons."

* * *

Sitting at Cluster Burger the next day for lunch, John chugged down a glass of cola while Daria looked on. She pointed to the half-eaten burger on his plate and said, "You realize that there's a reason they call that an Incendiary Cluster, don't you?"

He set the glass down and grabbed a napkin to wipe his brow. "Of course. Why do you think I got one?" 

"Should I be worried about this masochistic streak?" 

"A little spice is good for you."

"A little spice is fine, but attempting to cauterize your digestive tract is another."

"That which does not destroy us…"

"I don't think Nietzsche had hot pepper sauce burgers in mind when he wrote that."

"Probably not. But, it'll prepare me for driving lessons with Jake." 

"Good luck."

"Thanks. He's probably going to use it as a 'bonding' opportunity, too."

"I bet Mom's going to try the same thing with me."

"Is getting our licenses worth this?"

"It better."

* * *

Buckled into the driver's seat, Daria looked around the red SUV, craning her neck to see what may be behind the back corners of the vehicle. "This thing is huge."

In the passenger seat, Helen said, "You'll get used to it, Daria. Once you do, you'll appreciate how other drivers don't try to bully you on the road. Something very useful when you're learning." 

"I'll take your word for it."

"Okay Daria, start the car and back out of the parking space."

Daria turned the key and the engine started, roaring louder than usual. Helen tapped Daria's leg and said, "Not so much gas." 

Pulling her foot off the accelerator, Daria muttered, "Oops," and the engine quieted down.

"Now, put it in reverse and back out of the parking space."  
Unevenly, Daria turned the steering wheel to the left as she backed out toward the farther travel lane. She rose up to almost standing; trying to see how close the right back corner of the SUV was coming to a car.

Looking over her right shoulder, Helen abruptly said, "Whoa!" and the truck jerked to a halt as Daria stepped hard on the brake. "Honey, you're a little too close to that car." 

Pink-cheeked, Daria said, "Um, sorry. I couldn't see it very well. Maybe if I were a couple inches higher, it might help." 

"You have to develop a feel for where the bumper is, you'll get it."

"Um, thanks. Let's hope I don't crash into too many things in the process."

"Don't worry, you'll do fine. Just be a little more careful."

* * *

Jake and John watched the SUV slowly drive away. John cautiously said, "Well, ready to start on my driving lessons?"

As if viewing it for the last time, Jake eyed his Lexus and said, "I, uh, guess so."

"The keys would help," John said, holding out his hand.

"Oh, right." Jake handed them over and followed John to the blue sedan. "John, you know that is an expensive car; please be careful."

"If nothing else, I'll make sure I save the steering wheel."

"Ulp." Jake stopped mid-reach to the door handle.

_Okay, bad time to be a smartass. _"Kidding. I promise to be just as careful as I am in Trent's car."

Jake wiped his brow and said, "Whew. That makes me feel better." He opened the door and sat down before he remembered the state of the vehicle in question. "Isn't your brother's car a little…worn around the edges?"

"No, it's a falling apart piece of junk that would lose a head-on collision with a Chihuahua. Self-preservation is a good motivator." 

"Oh, I see." Jake tried to joke, "Hey, it's a good thing his band's taking that van on their big tour." 

"Yeah…you'd need something at least as big as a bull dog to total the Tank."

* * *

Watching the car go past in front of them, Helen said, "You had plenty of time to pull out before that car came by."

Nervously looking in the rearview mirror at the cars lined up behind her, Daria said, "Sorry, Mom. I wasn't sure how fast it was coming toward us."

Helen looked to the side and said, "Okay honey, after the next car."

A green sports car sped by and Daria crept out into the traffic, closely hugging the right side of the lane. Two cars pulled out behind her and immediately passed, causing Daria to jump in surprise at their sudden appearance beside her. "Ah!"

"Idiots," Helen grumbled at the passing cars. "Daria, they're everywhere. Don't let them get to you."

"For once, we agree on something."

* * *

"What the…?" John said as he pulled the car to the side of the road and the following police cruiser followed. "I don't think I did anything."

"Gaah! The police are always looking for something. Always."

"I must've missed a light or something."

"Okay, John. Just act cool." The high pitch of Jake's voice betrayed his apparent calm.

John pulled his learner's permit from his wallet and looked in the side mirror at the police officer walking up. "Great, I know him."

Step out of the car, please," Officer Parks said as he reached the Lexus and took the license from John.

"Um, yes sir."

Parks leaned down and said to Jake, "Sir, stay in the car for the moment." Back to John, he said, "Follow me."

John did as directed. When they were near the hood of the patrol car, Parks said, "John, what in the world are you doing driving with that maniac?"

"Uh, I live with the Morgendorffers." 

"Wait, they're the ones that you moved in with?" 

"Yeah. Is there a problem?"

"I didn't realize. The problem is that…Mr. Morgendorffer's a nutcase behind the wheel."

"Oh, I knew that. But right now, I don't have a choice. Trent's out of town and Mrs. Morgendorffer is with Daria."

"Daria's the girl you've been seeing?" 

"Yeah."

"Okay, I get the picture. Head on home, and keep it under the speed limit."

John sighed in relief. "So you're not giving me a ticket?"

"Not exactly." Parks scribbled on a ticket and passed it, along with his license, to John. "Here's a note. I'd feel a lot better if you didn't learn to drive with him in the car. Please."

* * *

Daria desperately looked around before she identified the sound of Helen's cell phone ringing. Helen answered with, "Hello…Hi, Eric…I'm giving my daughter a driving lesson…No, Daria…We're halfway…But Eric…They what?...Dammit!...Dammit!...I'll be on my way back as soon as we get home…No Eric, I'm not dropping her off in the middle of the street…I'll be there, don't worry…Okay, bye."

The SUV swerved some as Daria corrected its position in the lane as she brought her eyes back to the road. "Sounds like today's lesson is getting cut short."

"I'm sorry, Sweetie. We have a major development in the case and I really need to get back to the office. We'd better head straight home."

Daria nodded. "At least I got a little practice in. Maybe next time will be better."

"Daria…until this case is over, I'm not sure I'll be able to have time for more lessons. I'm really sorry." 

"Maybe I can learn this fall, after school starts again."

* * *

"I'll ask Helen when she gets home," Jake said as he entered the house. "I think we ought to fight it."

John shook his head. "I don't want any trouble, and…" he dropped to a near-whisper to, "I'd rather not let Helen know I was pulled over, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, oh, okay. Mum's the word. But…" 

"I'll figure something out."

"Then, great."

After Jake went upstairs, John noticed Daria sitting on one of the sofas. "Hi. How'd your driving lesson go?" 

"Okay, for as long as it lasted. Mom was called back to the office and we cut it short. Speaking of short, so was yours." 

John sat down and said, "Um, one of the cops I know from helping Trent pulled us over, and gave me this."

Daria read the note made to look almost like a formal ticket and said, "So he doesn't think it's safe to ride with Dad, and from the sounds of it, Mom won't be free again until after her stupid case is over. We're screwed."

"Yeah." John put his arm around Daria and sat closer, both to provide comfort, and feel some himself.

Daria put her arm around him and said, "It can't be that hard to drive. After all, if Kevin can learn, I damn well know that we can. We just need practice."

John half smiled and said, "I might have an idea. You know that empty parking lot behind the unfinished side of the building Jake's office is in? We could get the building super to let us past the gate and we could practice there. I don't think the cops would object to us practicing in a sealed off lot."

Daria gently smiled and kissed him. "Good idea."

* * *

Walking to Jake's office from the bus stop with Daria, John said, "I don't see your dad's car, so maybe he remembered to park it by the back gate."

"Or he forgot to go to back to the office after lunch."

Closer to the front door of Morgendorffer Consulting, John said, "Well, the light's on."

Daria pushed the door open and said, "Let's see if anyone's home."

Jake took his attention away from the computer and his game of hearts to say, "Hey, kids. I parked the car around back like you asked."

Daria said, "Did the building super unlock the gate?"

"Yeah, but he said to make sure you lock up when you leave."

"It's the least we can do," Daria replied.

John asked, "So, what's on the table for us to do today?"

"Well, I have a client showing up in about an hour with an idea for coffee-table fish tanks."

"I can hardly wait."

* * *

"As ideas go, it wasn't as bad as those from some of his other clients," John said as he and Daria walked around toward the back of the office building.

"It does solve a space issue for people in small apartments, even if a lot of fish are boring to look at from the top."

"I can see a great market for colorful, tropical flounders."

The transition from the front of the office building to the back was jarring. The front was clean and well maintained, even if a third of the rental office suites were empty. The building was designed with offices facing the front and back, though with slow rentals, the back offices were unfinished. Aged plywood covered the window openings and the concrete block was only primered. Dust, dirt and trash covered the walkways and all the exterior light fixtures were missing.

John and Daria stopped next to Jake's car and looked out at the empty parking lot. Glittering sunlight in various places marked broken glass. Bags, boxes and cans were scattered around the fading lines of the parking spaces and the travel lanes.

Daria said, "A view to inspire confidence."

"Hey, dodging the trash will be like dodging pedestrians. I'll get the gate if you'll bring the car in."

"Sure."

John opened the gate and motioned for Daria to drive through. Cautiously, she passed through, rapidly looking from side to side to gauge her position relative to the gate opening. He followed the car, closing the gate behind. Next, John slipped the padlock in place and turned it to look like it was closed.

Daria rolled down the window and said, "Who's first?"

Going to the right side of the car to get in, John said, "Since you're already in the driver's seat, might as well be you."

"That makes sense."

The car rolled forward about a foot and John stumbled, exclaiming, "Ah!" as he used the door to keep from falling.

Daria looked down. "Sorry, my foot slipped off the brake. Think I need to move the seat forward again." 

John replied, "Just so you weren't trying to bump me off for the insurance," and got into the car.

"Now that you mention it, an insurance payoff would make a good down-payment on that isolated cabin in Montana."

* * *

Daria put the car in park and said through her teeth, "I suppose you could do better. Fine, show me. I'm through for the day."

Surveying the odd position the car was in between two stacks of boxes being used for parallel parking, John said, "Okay, as soon as I can figure out how to get the car out of here."

Daria opened the door and stepped out. "I'll move a stack of boxes. You shouldn't have any trouble." 

Scooting over to the driver's seat, John muttered, "Smartass." He closed the door and pulled the car away when Daria tugged the boxes away and waited while she put them back before returning to the car.

"Okay, now show me how it's done," Daria said after she got in.

"Not a problem," John said as he started the car.

* * *

The steering wheel momentarily spun out of John's hand when the front tire hit the uneven edge of a storm drain and lurched to the side.

Grasping the overhead handgrip with one hand and the seat with the other, Daria nervously said, "Two hands on the wheel, okay? Two hands."

"It was just a little glitch," said John, turning to quickly look at Daria. The burning glare in her eyes made him rethink his opinion. "Okay, two hands. Sheesh."

* * *

"Hey, kids! How'd the…driving…practice…go?" Jake called as he rounded the corner of the building, his voice trailing off as he saw Daria and John leaning on opposite sides of the car and looking away. The two teens looked at him and said nothing, though the residual frustration and anger was clear.

"Okay then. Why don't we just go straight home?"

Still without saying a word, John got in the back seat as usual, but instead of joining him, Daria sat in the front passenger seat.

"Um, yeah. Home it is."

* * *

Looking in her planning book while walking down the hallway, Quinn Morgendorffer cheerfully said, "Hmm. Okay, tonight I have a date with…here it is, Steve." She flipped a couple pages and checked down a list. "He has a gold, year-old coupe with a six-disc CD changer, but it's not a convertible. That means, I'll wear the…"

She stopped and looked at the two closed doors on the left side of the hall. "That's weird." Curious, she knocked on Daria's door. 

"The door you are attempting to use is not in service at this time. Please try again later," Daria's voice announced. 

Quinn looked down the hall at John's door and whispered to herself, "And she doesn't consider herself a drama queen." 

To the door, Quinn said, "Something's up between you and John."

"It's none of your business."

"Daria, Mom also just got home. Do you want to talk to me, or her?" 

Several muffled footsteps later, the door opened. "Quinn, you're hanging around Mom too much and picking up her habits." 

Quinn pushed her way inside and closed the door. "So, what happened?"

Daria stalked back to her bed. "I really don't want to talk about it. Why would you want to?" 

Quinn sighed and sat next to Daria. "Because sometimes, we girls need to stick together. Talking about boy problems with another girl helps. Otherwise, things would build up and we'd just kill them all."

Despite herself, Daria half smiled and said, "Ms. Barch would like that."

"Yeah, but then we'd have to get our own sodas and pay for our own movies." 

"You know that there's more to how I feel about John than that."

"That's why you need someone to talk to. So you don't kill him or turn John into a Jane."

* * *

"Dammit." John tore a sheet from the large sketchpad on his easel, wadded it and threw it at the trash can.

He flopped onto the bed and studied the ceiling. "How the hell did we get so mad at each other?"

A few details of the disastrous afternoon came to him. Each one seemed small and minor: his mentioning to Daria that she could go faster, her telling him he could slow down, her difficulty with parallel parking, his arrogance at doing the same and hitting a stack of boxes, his comments about her wide, awkwardly slow turns and finally, her comments about the faint sound of tires squealing during some of his faster, sharp turns.

"Oh yeah, that's how. I guess I picked up a few bad habits from Trent…and Jesse, and Nick, and Max. And I guess Ms. Li claiming games of _New Car Test Drive_ as a 'driving simulator' on the school computers didn't work well for Daria during Driver's Ed class."

Following a rapid knock on the door, John heard Quinn say, "Hey, are you dressed in there?"

"What's it to you?"

"Because I'm about to drag you out of there."

John replied, "I'm completely naked," though fully clothed.

The door swung open to reveal Quinn with her arms folded. "Right. Now come on." 

John rolled onto his side and said, "Quinn, what are you doing?"

"Getting two stubborn people to talk." 

"If Daria's willing…" He hopped off the bed and said, "I'll try."

Quinn grabbed his hand and pulled. "Follow me," she said, leading him to her room. 

"Why are we going there?"

"Neutered ground."

"I hope you mean neutral ground." 

Quinn exclaimed, "Whatever," before pushing him inside and closing the door.

Inside, Daria was looking away from the door and at the various stuffed animals on Quinn's canopy bed. "Hi."

"Um, hi."

They stood still without speaking for close to a minute before Daria said, "This room's awfully pink."

"Hard on the eyes, too." 

Daria turned and said, "In her own way, Quinn's trying to be helpful."

"I get the idea she wants us to talk."

"I suspect she's using her room to speed up the process."

"It's working," John said, carefully smiling.

"We…got a little mad back there." 

"I think it was more than a little."

"Okay, very mad. Happy?"

"Not really. Actually, more like miserable."

"Me, too."

"Look, uh, I'm…"

"Um, so am I."

John held his hands out and Daria grasped them, pulling him closer. She tilted her head back slightly and John leaned down to kiss her. Not breaking the kiss, they let go of each other's hands, John moving his around Daria's waist and she moved hers around his chest. Eyes closed, they forgot about anger as they enjoyed the embrace.

"Oh my God!" burst from Helen as she opened the door. "In Quinn's room!"

The outburst caused Daria and John to jump apart, with beet red faces.

"Mo-om!" Quinn called, trying to interrupt.

Helen brushed her daughter off, saying, "Hush, Quinn. I'll handle this. Daria, John, just what do you think you're doing?"

"Making up," Daria blurted out.

"I can see that," Helen said, not exactly understanding what was said.

"Up, Mom." Quinn tugged on Helen's sleeve. "They were making up, not making out."

Helen suddenly calmed. "What?"

John found his voice. "Daria and I had a fight earlier. We were making up."

Now confused, Helen asked, "In Quinn's room?"

"It was my idea," Quinn said.

"Your idea?" Helen asked.

"I didn't think their rooms would be a good idea; you know, even footing."

"There is the hallway." 

"Mom, I figured they'd want at least a little privacy." 

Daria said, "Mom, trust me. We were not going to stay in here very long."

"You know it," Quinn said, stepping past to her closet. "I still have a date to get ready for tonight. Now, can everybody please leave?"

Helen sighed and shook her head. "You kids better not give me any gray hairs."

John stepped into the hall. "That's really not our intention."

Helen joined him. "But you two really know better than to fully close the door."

John nodded. "I was thinking so much about what happened, I forgot. I'm sorry."

"No harm done," Helen said. "Besides a few more frayed nerves all around. I came up to tell you that dinner is almost ready. I'll meet you in the kitchen." 

Helen went back downstairs and Daria asked Quinn, "Not that I don't appreciate it, but I'm curious. Why?"

Quinn smiled. "Because I like you two together…and you keep Mom and Dad distracted."

"Ulterior motives." John shrugged and said, "But, I'll take it. Thanks, Quinn." 

"Glad we can be your decoys," Daria said.

Quinn started closing her door. "Yeah, yeah, you're welcome. But really, I need to get ready. I've already spent enough time on you two."

Quinn closed the door and Daria turned to John, putting her arms around his waist and leaning against him. "So much for the moment."

"I won't forget it anytime soon," John said, folding his arms around her.

Quinn peeked out of her door, satisfied. _You better not._

* * *

The Lawndale Community College student union was sparsely occupied the next morning after Daria's Creative Writing class. Waiting for John to get out of his class, Daria pulled a plastic chair over to one of the pay phones and sat down. Flipping through the battered phone book attached to the booth by a steel cable, Daria jotted down notes on a sheet of paper.

With a list completed, Daria fished a quarter from her pocket and popped into the coin slot of the phone. She dialed the first number and waited, finally hearing a receptionist say, "Acme of Lawndale Driving School. May I help you?"

"Hi. My name's Daria Morgendorffer and I'm inquiring about your fees and schedules for driving lessons."

"Did you say Morgendorffer?" 

"Yes."

"Any relation to Helen Morgendorffer?"

Wary, Daria said, "Yes." 

"She actually had the gall to let you call us? Well, forget it. We don't have openings for new students. Goodbye." 

Daria looked at the phone and said, "Mom, what did you sue them for? Oh well, next school."

She fed a quarter into the phone and dialed the second number on the list. After a couple rings, she heard, "Good morning, Bee-Safe Driving School. Can I help you?"

"Yes. My name's Daria Morgendorffer and I'm looking for…" Daria cut off her introduction when she heard a click and the line went dead. "Must be a bad connection."

She tried again and heard, "Good Morning, Bee-Safe Driving School. Can I help you?"

"I called just a moment ago and we were cut off. I'm…"

"Go away!" If anything, the hang-up click seemed louder.

Daria sighed and said, "Now that's customer service. Next."

The next call was answered with, "Drive with Confidence School, how may I help you?"

"Hi, I'm checking on prices and schedules for driving lessons."

"I can help you with that. Are you a new driver or fulfilling a court order?" 

"Um, new driver."

"Adult or minor?" 

"Minor."

"Do you currently have a learner's permit?"

"Yes."

"Okay. We have several options and an information brochure I can mail to you. Name, please?"

"Daria Morgendorffer." 

"Morgen…oh dear."

"Is there a problem?"

"Um…"

"Okay, what did my mother do to you?"

"You don't know?"

"I don't exactly follow her cases, but you're the third school to have a problem."

"Look, we're not supposed to talk about it. But, we can't help you. Bye."

Daria pulled out another quarter for the phone and dialed from memory. Soon, she heard, "Helen Morgendorffer's office, this is Marianne." 

"Hi Marianne, this is Daria. Is Mom in?"

"I'm sorry Daria, she's at the courthouse."

"Maybe you can help me, since you're the one that really knows what's going on around there."

Marianne chuckled at the comment. "I'll do what I can."

"Was Mom part of some kind of lawsuit involving the local driving schools?"

"Hmm, let me think." After a couple seconds, Marianne said, "That would be the Brake Right, Right-Hand Brake Company case. Helen successfully defended them against a class-action suit brought by the local driving schools for faulty instructor brakes."

"Well, that explains why the schools won't talk to me or why Mom's never suggested them."

"From what it sounded like, the schools weren't happy about losing. Do you want me to tell your mother you're having problems?"

"No! I already go to one school where the administration hates me. I'll just have to look into other options for driving lessons."

"I'm sorry, Daria."

"Thanks. Bye."

Daria hung up the phone and said, "Now what?"

* * *

John sat on the floor of Daria's room with his back against her bed, where she was reclining. John said to the cordless phone, "Trent, it was a raw oyster festival; what did you expect the free meal to be?"

John's tall, lanky brother leaned against the edge of a phone booth and looked at the other members of Mystik Spiral gathered around their road-weary black van, parked on a seaside wharf. Shirtless, Jesse was asleep in the passenger seat with a content smile on his face. Nick was leaning over the railing, returning his meal to the ocean, while Max sat in the open side cargo door, eagerly going through a box of crackers. 

Trent said, "Kinda hoping for fish sticks. Had a few, go down easy. Don't know what's so exciting about them."

"So, what's wrong?"

"Didn't agree with Nick. Good thing we're not on the road."

"I bet. Is that it?" 

"Max wouldn't eat any. We got 'm a box of crackers." 

"What about Jesse?"

"He'll eat anything."

"Including stuff from our old fridge. Beside the food, how'd the gig go?"

"Don't think they're ready for Spiral."

_Few are._ "So, what's next?"

"Gonna jam with a local band tonight. Call themselves the Drunken Sailors."

"How appropriate for a fishing town."

"Said we might add a cool sound to some song called _In Plymouth Town._" 

"What about after that?"

"We have a gig some place near D.C. called Correctly Political. Hey, what's up with you?"

"The sculpture class is fun and Daria's enjoying hers. Working for Jake is still strange, and so are his clients."

"Glad things are cool."

"But it's too bad you're not around for some driving practice." 

"You drive okay."

John looked at Daria. "But not great. Plus, Daria also needs some practice. Still planning on being on the road all summer?"

"Maybe not all summer, but we could go 'til fall. Gonna play it loose." 

_In other words, until the Tank dies or you're broke._ "I'll see what I can figure out here."

"You'll make it, Johnny."

"I'll try. Thanks for calling. It's nice knowing you're still alive."

Trent laughed and coughed. "Guess I'm acting like the rest of our family. Oh yeah, can you tell Monique we're doing good?"

"Yeah, I'll tell her."

"Looks like Nick's done. I'll talk to you later, Johnny. Um, yeah, tell Mr. and Mrs. M thanks for letting me call collect."

"I will. Later, Trent." John turned off the phone and said, "Well, I'm not going to bet on them to help."

"They were a long shot."

John started dialing a number on the phone. "Pardon me a sec while I try to keep Trent's ass out of the fire."

"Monique?" 

"Yeah."

Daria sat up. "Hey." 

"Hey, what?"

"Monique. She has a car." 

John turned around and leaned up to kiss Daria. "You're brilliant."

* * *

Energy drink in one hand, granola bar in the other and a briefcase jammed under her arm, Helen rushed to the door on Saturday morning. "Daria, if I'm not home from the office by five, please start the frozen lasagna."

Waiting for a sugar tart that was warming in the toaster, Daria said, "I'll try to fit it into my whirlwind schedule."

Pouring coffee, John nodded while saying, "Or we'll do something." 

"Thanks!" Helen opened the door and ran into a slender young woman with flowing black hair reaching for the doorbell. The drink flew from her hand and the briefcase tumbled to the ground, popping open.

Monique stumbled backward. "Ah!" 

Helen squatted down and started grabbing loose papers. "Oh dear, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were there."

Monique knelt down to help. "It's okay; I guess you don't usually try to run over guests."

"Oh, uh…do I know you?" 

"Monique. I'm to see Johnny and Daria."

Helen eyed Monique's bare midriff and nose ring. "Are you a friend from the college?"

Laughing, Monique said, "Nah, I'm Trent's girlfriend. You must be Daria's mom. Hi."

"Yes, I'm Helen. What brings you here?"

"Gonna give them some driving practice."

Stung, Helen said, "I see." 

"Johnny said you had some important work to do. I'm kind of a temp until you can free up some more time."

"I really wish I had the time."

"My mom had to work a lot and I turned out fine."

"Uh-huh." Helen looked closer at the nose ring. "That's a real piercing, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Hey, Daria still have hers?"

"I don't know; it's not something she shows a lot."

"Pretty cool that you're not freaked out by it."

"I, uh, try to keep an open mind."

"It's also cool what you did for Johnny. I used to worry about him. Trent's a nice guy and all, but…he's not the most responsible."

"Thank you. John's a good boy and I'm glad to have him as part of the family."

Monique packed the last of the papers together and placed them in Helen's briefcase. "Looks like you're in a hurry. Better get on your way."

Helen closed the lid and said, "Oh dear, yes. Thank you so much for helping me pick things up. It's been nice running into you."

"I see where Daria gets some of her sense of humor."

"Sense of humor?"

"Running into me?"

Helen snickered. "Oh. That is rather funny."

The two women stood up and Helen said, "Come to think of it, I was wondering why they were up so early on a Saturday. Go on in and have a nice day."

"Thanks, you too."

* * *

As John climbed in the back seat of Monique's black sports car, Daria held back to say, "I don't know if I'm ready for a car like this."

In the passenger seat, Monique leaned across and said, "It handles better than your mom's battlebarge or your dad's bourg-mobile."

Stepping forward, Daria said, "If you say so." She sat down and pulled the seat forward, buckled in and adjusted the mirrors to meet her smaller frame.

Patting Daria's shoulder, Monique said, "Don't worry, I was a terror learning how to drive. You can't be any worse."

Daria started the car and turned to look behind while putting in reverse. A light pressure on the gas pedal caused the car to speed down the driveway and into the street. Daria's eyes flew open in surprise and she hit the brake while turning to avoid the opposite curb.

"Oh yeah, it has a little more 'umph' than your folks' cars," Monique said. 

"Thanks for the warning."

* * *

Sitting on the opposite side of the booth from Daria and John, Monique dropped a pizza crust rim on her plate, adding to the stack of pizza bones already there. She said, "I wouldn't go for a driving test yet, but you're not doing that bad." 

"Except for not noticing that speed limit sign," Daria said.

"So you were going 25 in a 45 zone. Better than the other way around."

John said, "At least you didn't scrape the front bumper on the curb when you parked." 

"That stuff happens," Monique replied. "You haven't done anything to make me change pants, I'm happy." 

"That's a fairly easy standard to attain," Daria said.

"You'd think, but I've ridden with some real scary drivers."

John said, "Like Max."

"You said it."

Daria asked, "Any other comments about our driving?"

"You act like you have a blind spot to the sides, like your glasses get in the way."

"They do, a little."

Monique waved her hand before picking up another slice. "Lots of people learn to deal with it. You'll be fine."

John asked, "What about me?"

"Slow down, you're not running a race."

"I get the hint." 

Monique said to Daria, "Be glad he doesn't fall asleep at the wheel, like his brother."

* * *

"I feel better now," Daria said as she drove away from the street behind the Zon later that afternoon. "My parallel parking is still ugly, but at least it's not as embarrassing as my last attempt. Right, John?"

"I think there was some non-Euclidean geometry involved. The car was at a very strange angle," John answered.

"Now you know a quiet place to practice during the day," Monique said. "Except on Thursdays. That's when the beer is delivered."

"Ah!" Daria exclaimed in response to an old pickup pulling out of an alley to the left. The tall pile of junk haphazardly lashed down in the truck bed swayed and leaned as it turned onto the street dangerously close to the front of the car.

From John's viewpoint in back, the truck filled the front window as Daria hit the brake, throwing everyone hard against their seat belts. He noticed every detail as Daria pulled the steering wheel to the right and the car bucked and jumped as the front tire rode over the curb. It landed with a hard thump before stopping abruptly as the rear tire hit the curb. 

Outside, he heard the metallic "ting" of a hubcap bouncing off the building facing the street. Daria still held a tight grip on the wheel and breathed hard while staring at the wall. Monique shook her head and reached down to the shifter, placing the transmission in park. "We're okay, Daria."

"What?" 

"We're okay."

"That truck, it just…appeared."

"I know."

"Your car…I'm sorry."

Monique leaned through the open window and then stepped out, walking to the front of the car. She held her hands a couple inches apart and said, "This much to spare. Looks like all that happened was a dinged hub cap and the front-end alignment's probably shot."

Still not moving, Daria said, "I think I'm done for the day."

Monique picked up the loose hub cap, walked around to the left side of the car and opened the door. After dropping the hubcap on the rear floorboard, she said, "Don't blame you. I'll take over and drive you home."

Stiff, Daria crawled out and was surprised when Monique put her arms around her, saying, "Great driving." 

"What do you mean?"

Stepping back to arm's length while keeping her hands on Daria's shoulder, Monique said, "That could've been real bad, but it wasn't thanks to you." 

Daria gazed down the street in the direction the truck had disappeared and shivered as the implication sank in. John slid over while Monique helped Daria into the back seat and put his arm around her when Monique swung the seat back into place. He said, "Wow Daria, good save."

"I just reacted."

John kissed her cheek. "I'd say your reactions are pretty good."

* * *

John and Daria climbed out of the passenger door and leaned back against the door frame after closing it. John said through the open window, "Thanks a bunch, Monique." 

"No prob, Johnny."

Next, Daria said, "Thanks. I'm still sorry about your car."

"Eh, it really needed an alignment anyway. Do you need some practice time next weekend?"

Daria and John looked at each other and he said, "If you can stand us."

"Riding with you two will keep me out of trouble, since your brother's on the road. But, you can do me a favor."

"Sure," John agreed. "What's that?"

Monique's voice took on a hard edge. "The next time that irresponsible bum calls you, tell him to call me and not use you as a messenger."

"Um…yeah. I'll do that."

Back to normal, Monique said, "Thanks. I should get going, the Harpies have practice tonight and they get bitchy if I'm late. I really need to go solo. Bye, you two." 

After Daria and John said goodbye, Monique drove off, leaving them by the driveway. Walking to the front door of the house, Daria said, "I hope I don't have any more close calls like that." 

"I hope I don't have to find out if I could've done as well as you." John looked at his watch and said, "Oops. It's after five."

"And Mom's not home yet. Surprise, surprise."

A potent, eye-watering aroma hit them as they opened the door. Jake jumped up from the sofa and said, "Hey, kids! Nobody was home to start dinner, so I tried one of my new recipes. How does Indian curry chicken sound to you?" 

Daria said, "After today, I think I can face it."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

June 2006


	19. Retouched Parents

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the nineteenth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Retouched Parents**

"Gahh! What do you mean, cancel?" Jake Morgendorffer yelled as he jumped up from one of the living room sofas.

Near the front door of their home, his wife Helen said, "I'm sorry, Jake. The settlement for the exploding ketchup case fell through. There's simply no way I can miss a week of trial preparation."

"But, we've already made reservations for the Caribbean cruise and everything."

"We'll have to cancel, I'm sorry. This is a very important case for me." 

Folding his arms over his chest, Jake dropped back down onto the sofa, pouting. "Good thing we didn't waste our time on those SCUBA lessons we've talked about."

Helen stepped behind Jake and rubbed a hand over his shoulder. "I'll make it up to everyone, I promise."

Still sulking, Jake mumbled, "Okay."

Helen gazed up toward the stairs. "I'll tell the kids. I'm sure they're going to be so disappointed."

* * *

Quinn spun around and said, "Mo-om! I spent days looking for just the right swimsuit, and now we're not going? Can we at least make it to the beach?"

"I don't know, maybe," Helen answered, while standing in the doorway of her daughter's room.

"Mom, I can't let all the cuteness of that suit go to waste."

"We'll see, dear. Like I said, I am sorry about canceling the trip. I'll make it up to you, somehow."

"I could use just a couple extra outfits for school…it's only a couple weeks away…"

"You just went shopping for school clothes."

"Just a few things, you know, for the unexpected."

"I'll figure out some way to make it up to you, but not clothes. Give me a little while; I still have to break the news to Daria and John."

* * *

After completing the sentence she was typing on the computer, Helen's older daughter Daria turned to John Lane, who was sitting on the floor of her room, polishing a hand-sized stone sculpture. "My procrastination worked, I didn't have to experience the time-wasting humiliation of buying a swimsuit." 

Helen noticed the suppressed look of disappointment on John's face and said, "Quinn suggested that we could go to the beach instead. John, doesn't that sound like fun?"

Daria turned and answered, "You don't have to go to all that trouble for us."

"I've only been to the beach a couple times, and not in several years," John said.

Daria looked back at him through the upper edge of her glasses. John shrugged and said, "I wouldn't mind going."

"I'll see what I can do to make it a fun trip for everybody," Helen said before exiting the room.

After a wait to make sure Helen was gone, Daria said, "You're not cooperating."

"Daria, I would like to go."

"Oh yeah, sunburn, sandwiches with real sand, jellyfish, all kinds of attractions."

"Playing in the surf, sand sculpting, watching stupid people pose." 

"John, I know you're trying, but I really don't like going to the beach."

"Getting out of Lawndale for the day would be nice."

"I'd love to get away from here, but not the beach."

"Um, okay. We can work on going somewhere else."

Daria rested one arm on her chair back and leaned against it. "You were hoping to see me in a swimsuit, weren't you?"

"Guilty."

After sitting silently for a while, she sighed and said, "It would only be natural for you. I have to admit that I'm curious about what you'd look like."

"Bikinis don't do a thing for me."

Daria lightly chuckled and said, "I hope not." Returning to a serious voice, she added, "John, I haven't worn a swimsuit since I last went to summer camp. The experience didn't leave good memories of swimming or swimsuits. Someday, I'll feel comfortable enough to wear one again, but not yet."

"I can wait…and imagine."

"I'm sure you're very good at that."

John's blush confirmed to Daria that she was right.

* * *

Later that evening, Jake was stretched out on the sofa, watching a baseball game. Somewhat shaking his head, he rose from the sofa to answer the doorbell. Nearing the stairs, he yelled up them, "Quinn! Your date is here!"

Curious, since Quinn had left for her date almost on hour earlier, John and Daria went to the stair landing. Jake stood in the open doorway, looking outside at a black-haired man holding a pipe. After a moment, Jake said, "Vincent?"

"Dad?" John said, taking a couple steps down.

Vincent Lane said, "Good evening, Jake. Hi, John. It's good to see you."

John asked, "What brings you here?"

"I'm returning to Ashfield after a photo shoot in Egypt and decided to see how you were doing." 

Jake suddenly snapped out of his surprise and said, "Come in."

Vincent entered the house as Daria and John completed the trip downstairs. Vincent said, "Hello, son." 

"Hi."

Jake and Daria could feel the tension between father and son as all four went to the living room. Jake asked, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Water, please," Vincent replied.

_It's been over eight months since we moved out of our old house and the last time I'd heard from him. Dammit, some things don't change._ John said, "So, what have you been up to?"

"I just finished three months in Egypt, and before that, I visited Ceylonese tea plantations for four months."

_Running away again._

John bitterly said, "And you've never bothered to call."

"You know how difficult it can be to communicate…"

"Dad, I was hoping that things would've changed a little. I understand that your job makes you travel…but, I haven't heard a word from you since I started living here. That's over eight months, Dad." 

Jake entered the room and presented a glass to Vincent. "Here."

"Oh, thank you," he said, taking a small drink.

Reading John's mood, Daria grasped one of his hands and held it lightly. The touch eased back his rising anger. 

Vincent set his glass on the coffee table and said, "I'm sorry and I'll try to do better. Today, I was hoping to invite you to stay with your mother and me for a week or so."

"At the art colony?" John said.

"That's right. Your mother's looking forward to seeing you."

John feelings worked at cross purposes in his mind. He wanted to visit with them. Despite how well things were with the Morgendorffers, he missed his parents. But, the offer also felt like, once again, he was being fitted into their schedules.

"Well?" Vincent asked. 

_But if I don't try, I'm no different._ John came out of his thoughts to see the others waiting for an answer. "I'm in."

* * *

In no particular order, John packed his black suitcase while Daria sat on the bed next to it. She said, "At least you didn't have to choose between your parents and a cruise." 

"True. Hey, I'm sorry you get stuck alone with your dad all day at his office while I'm gone."

"It'll give me a chance to sharpen my skills at solitaire."

"Don't let Quinn give you any makeovers."

Folding her arms and giving John a fake frown, Daria said, "Are you under the delusion that I'll completely take leave of my senses if you're gone for a week?"

"Wishful thinking?" John said and grinned.

"Very wishful."

John dropped a couple shirts in the suitcase and closed it, leaning forward, close to Daria's face. "I'm going to miss you."

"I might enjoy the week of peace and quiet. Well, comparative peace and quiet; Quinn will still be across the hall."

"Gee, make me feel special."

She gave him a kiss and said, "Like that?"

"That was pretty special." 

"John! Your father's here!" Jake yelled from downstairs.

John grabbed the suitcase and then said, "We better head down before your mother comes looking for us." 

Daria nodded to an easel standing in one corner. "You're not taking that? I thought you had some kind of symbiotic link with it."

"I'm going to an art colony. I think they'll have some."

"Let's hope it doesn't get too jealous."

John stepped over to the window, where two cats were lounging on the sunlit sill. John scratched each between the ears and said, "Zachary, Taylor, try to stay out of trouble."

Unconcerned, the cats accepted the brief attention and then returned to their slumber as the two teenagers exited the room.

Helen was partway up the stairs when Daria and John reached the landing to go down. She said, "There you are."

"Sorry for the delay, Mom," Daria said. She feigned adjusting her shirt and added, "We got a little carried away."

Helen's eyes widened momentarily until she saw John cover his mouth. She glared at Daria and said, "Funny." 

As Daria walked by her mother, she said, "Couldn't resist."

Helen fell in behind the teens. "Someday, you're going to have a kid do the same thing to you."

"I don't believe in curses, Mom."

"Neither did I, until you and Quinn came along…"

John said, "Then that means that you teased your mother."

"It's a never-ending cycle," Helen said with a wink.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they saw Vincent waiting just outside the door with Jake and Quinn. A blue compact car was parked in the driveway. Walking to the car, John asked, "Hi Dad, new wheels?"

"Rental," Vincent said.

"Ah." John put his suitcase in the back seat.

Going to the driver's door, Vincent asked, "About ready to go?"

"In a minute." John walked over to Daria and held both her hands, saying, "I've, uh, never done something like this before." 

"First for me, too."

The gazed upon each other while everyone watched. Without a thought to the others, John slowly let go of Daria's hands and wrapped his arms around her. She raised her arms and put them around his shoulders as they lovingly kissed.

Quinn giggled and said, "I guess they're out in the open now."

Jake stood up straight, clenched his fists and took a step forward. Before Helen could reach him, Jake stopped and his grim face softened into a smile. Helen put her hands around one of Jake's arms.

Vincent puffed on his pipe and looked at his watch.

"That gives me a reason to come back," John whispered as he and Daria separated.

"And me a reason to wait," she whispered back.

"I love you."

After a second, short kiss, Daria answered, "I love you."

Following a brief pause, John stepped back and then went to the passenger seat of the rental car. He paused and looked back at Daria. After exchanging smiles with her, he got in. 

Vincent entered the car and said to the Morgendorffers, "He'll be back next Saturday. Jake, Helen, thanks for everything."

Jake and Helen waved and said, "Goodbye." 

Backing out of the driveway, Vincent said, "You and Daria appear to be more than friends."

Wondering where the question would lead, John answered, "Yeah, you can say that."

"Interesting. Jake and Helen looked supportive."

"It's taken some adjustment for them, but they've been pretty good about it."

Vincent shifted the car into drive and proceeded down the street. "What kind of art does she do?"

"She's a writer."

"Hmm. That would be a new one in the family."

"You seem to be pretty accepting, considering."

"Who you have a relationship with is your choice."

"I was a little worried, considering how she was involved with, you know. How are you dealing with…me living with the Morgendorffers?"

"It was hard, realizing what we'd done. But, from the looks of you, I think it was for the best."

"Then why didn't you call?"

Eyes locked onto the road to avoid looking at his son, Vincent took a second to reply, "Have you ever been too ashamed of yourself to face something?"

* * *

Jake and Helen continued waving as Vincent and John drove away. Quinn moved over next to Daria, who was watching with hands folded.

"Damn, Daria. That was some kiss," Quinn said.

"Hmm?" Daria replied, not really hearing. 

"That was some kiss."

"It was…" Daria suddenly realized what was going on and her cheeks flushed pink. Without looking back, she asked, "Are Mom and Dad freaking out?"

"In a way," Quinn said. "They've got that 'here's a fifty, go to the mall for a couple hours' look." 

"Oh, God. What did we look like?"

"Cute, and very romantic. I think that got to Mom and Dad, and you know how they act when they start feeling romantic."

Helen approached and said, "Daria, that was very sweet. I know you're going to miss John a lot this week."

"Here's a fifty, Kiddo. Why don't you go to the bookstore and buy some books? You know, get something to read while John's away," Jake said, giving Daria the indicated cash. He took another fifty from his wallet and said, "Quinn, why don't you go to the mall? Both of you, take your time. Come back around dinner time."

Quinn took her money and said, "Thanks. Give me a minute to find a ride." She disappeared inside the house, leaving Daria with her parents.

"Mom, Dad, thanks for not freaking out," Daria said. "I, we didn't plan on anything so…obvious." 

Helen put her arm around Daria's shoulder and said, "Your dad and I were a little surprised. But Sweetie, you acted like two people in love saying goodbye."

Daria relaxed and said, "Thanks."

"And at least you had the good taste not to use any tongue."

Shocked, Daria said, "Mom!" 

"Gotcha."

* * *

"As you can imagine, I'll be spending a lot of time developing film, but things go faster with a proper darkroom," Vincent explained as they drove through the rural countryside.

"And a lot easier on everyone's bladder than the bathroom."

"That too."

"So, um, what am I going to do in the meantime?"

"There's always some kind of class going on and there's several studios to work in. The idea is for everyone to explore their creativity."

John said, "Could be interesting, though I'll probably skip the sculpture studio. I just finished a class in that at Lawndale CC."

"That's good to hear. Did Daria take any classes?"

"Creative writing."

Vincent nodded and continued driving as the conversation dropped away. John adjusted the radio to find a station reasonably static-free. Eventually, he found an oldies station that was tolerable and John settled back in his seat to watch the scenery pass by.

Thinking about their destination and seeing his mother again, John decided to take a chance. "Dad, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, John."

"Well, for as long as I can remember, Mom's always been a little out of it. Did something happen to her?"

Vincent's eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead.

"Dad?"

The older man drove until he reached a small side road and pulled off, parking on the shoulder. "I've known your mother since we were children. She was always creative, but in some ways, slow. Her parents said something about a lack of air when she was born."

"Thanks. I was always afraid to ask."

"The other kids would try to take advantage of her and when we were about nine, I started stepping in on her side. We grew closer and married right out of high school. We couldn't afford much, so we joined a commune. That's where Summer, Wind and Penny were born."

"While Trent and I were born at the old house in Howard Drive."

"Uh-huh. The commune folded and we found the old house."

"Dad, I remember you and Mom being mostly home up until a few years ago. What happened?"

"Simply put, with five children and four grandchildren scattered around the world to support, we ran out of money. The international assignments pay a lot better than the domestic ones. Your mother didn't go on those trips only to learn; she also made and sold pottery at the same time. Let's be honest, you can't sell much pottery in Lawndale."

"Wait a minute. What do you mean, five kids to support? Only Trent and I were at home. Well, except for Wind and Summer's visits while waiting to find a new place to live."

"Child support payments from Summer's ex have been a lot more miss than hit. Everything Wind earns goes to alimony, and you don't really think that Penny's living off of the stuff she sells."

"You mean you've been paying for them all this time?"

"They're family. We couldn't say no."

"Dad, do you know how often Trent and I had to live off of what he makes playing with Mystic Spiral?" 

Head resting on arms wrapped around the steering wheel, Vincent said, "John, we did the best we could and I'm sorry you were the one hurt the most. There wasn't enough money to go around." 

"I babysat Summer's brats for free while she was taking your money. I listened to Wind's bitching while he took your money. My opinion of them just sank a lot lower."

"Don't be too hard on them."

"Dad, they were using you and Mom."

"We never really told them how hard things were for us. They thought everything was fine."

John's head banged against the side window. "Could our family possibly be messed up any more?"

* * *

A rustic wood sign saying "Ashfield Community for the Arts" stood over the entrance as Vincent and John drove under it. They went past several wooden cabins before stopping at a smaller one.

"Not very big, but it's home," Vincent said. 

John stepped out of the car and said, "Definitely a change from suburbia," as he looked at the tree-filled spaces and winding paths.

"If your mother's not inside, she'll probably be at the pottery studio."

"Some things don't change."

"The kiln's ventilated better." 

"Oh, good. No more risk of carbon monoxide poisoning." 

John picked up his suitcase from the back seat and Vincent his two from the car trunk. With Vincent in the lead, they went inside the cabin. They entered a common room that included a small kitchen and dining table. A short hall was opposite the front door, one door was visible on the right side and two on the left. John's father said, "First door on the left is the bathroom, your room is the second door."

"Navigation should be easy." As John entered the hall, the third door opened and Amanda stepped out.

She smiled and hugged her son. "Our butterfly's come home."

Despite the frustration of what he'd learned on the drive, John felt a warm happiness at seeing his mother. "Hi, Mom."

Amanda held John for several more seconds before going over to Vincent. "Hi honey."

"Amanda." 

After kissing her husband, Amanda asked, "How was the trip?"

"We got a few things out in the open," Vincent said.

"That's nice." She turned back to John. "You seem taller."

John shrugged. "I've grown a little bit."

"How's Daria? You talk about her every time you call."

"Doing well."

"She sounds like a nice girl. Did she come with?"

"No, Mom."

Amanda frowned. "I'd like to see her." 

"Maybe next time."

Amanda cheered up immediately. "Wonderful."

Holding his suitcase up, John said, "I'm going to check out my room and dump this." 

"Last door on the…" Amanda held up her hand and looked at it for a second. "…left."

Already walking down the hall, he said, "Thanks, Mom."

* * *

After he unpacked, his parents led John on a quick tour of the community. They pointed out the different studios, such as pottery and photography, the cafeteria, the group cabins for the session attendees, and the private cabins of the staff members. 

Back outside their cabin, John said, "Your students sure seem to like you, Mom."

"It's the unity of clay. It brings us all together."

"You might have something to do with it, too."

"I try to be supportive." 

"As long as their projects don't detonate inside the kiln."

Amanda made a face and said, "It's so rude when something blows up and hurts the other students' work." 

"I'm going to start separating my film canisters and prep them for developing," Vincent said. "John, why don't you wander around and meet the natives while your mother and I tend to our business. We can meet up for dinner at six."

John shrugged and said, "Sure Dad, I want to get a little more feel for the place."

"See you later, son."

John walked away from the cabin after his parents went in. _I don't want to know all of the business that they have to tend to._

* * *

Overall, many of the people around were older high school students or college students attending the summer program, which was nearing its end. The campus atmosphere was relaxed and the rural surroundings soothing. Several of the residents had found shady spots to work on their art, whether drawing, painting or photography. 

John found a bench and sat down, stretching his legs out and spreading his arms across the back. "Wish I'd grabbed a sketchpad before leaving the cabin."

A voice behind him said, "We share a lot around here; you can borrow mine." 

John turned to see a shapely, black-haired young woman in tight blue jeans and an equally tight, red sleeveless t-shirt.

"Um, thanks."

The woman walked around and sat beside John, offering the sketchpad. "You're here a little late for the summer session."

"Oh, I'm not here for that. I'm visiting my parents for the week. Very long story."

"Your parents?"

"Amanda and Vincent Lane."

"Ah, them."

"I'm John."

"Hi, I'm Alison."

* * *

_Oh good, there are dead animal products here_, John thought as he looked over the entrée selections in the cafeteria. _With the whole commune feel of the place, I was worried._

"I'll try the chops," he told the attendant. "Plus the mashed potatoes, broccoli and the carrots." 

After the attendant plopped the selections on his plate, John carried his tray over to a soda dispenser and filled a glass before going over to the table where his parents were seated side-by-side. He looked at the vaguely gray pork chop with some distrust. _I'm beginning to wonder if it's real. I hope so._

"How was your afternoon?" Vincent inquired as John sat down on the opposite side of the table.

"Not too bad. It's kind of a cool place to wander around."

Amanda said, "Did you meet any of the other students?"

"I met someone named Alison. She's a senior at Upstate University and she let me borrow a couple pages from her sketchpad. She introduced me to some of the other students. Um, let's see, it was Connie, Biff, Luther and Lori."

"It's great to be able to sit down with you for dinner. Seems like a long time," Vincent said.

John started to cut into his pork chop. "About a one and a half or two years."

"Oh, that long."

John shook his head. "Dad, I didn't mean it quite that way. I have missed you and I'm glad to see you. I wouldn't have been so hurt about you not calling if I didn't care."

"Of course you do," Amanda said.

* * *

"That's okay, Jake. I'll use the other bathroom," Helen said to her husband as she put on her robe the next morning. Once outside the bedroom, she muttered, "You and your fifteen bean chili. It'll take all day for the air to clear in there." 

Helen walked around the stairwell toward the other upstairs bathroom and noticed the light in John's room. "He must've left it on in the rush to leave yesterday." She pushed the door open and reached for the light switch.

"Oh!" Daria said, startled by Helen's sudden presence.

"Daria?" 

"Um, hi Mom."

Helen smiled at her daughter and put one arm around Daria's shoulder. "You can feel that he's not here."

Daria replied with a nod.

"I'm sure he feels the same."

Running her hand across John's easel, Daria said, "It's a little unsettling. I've always tried to be self-reliant, but now I feel like a part of me is missing." 

"That's because a part of you is missing."

"Do you feel like this when Dad goes on a business trip?"

"Every time."

"I never thought a relationship would get so complicated."

"Trust me, Sweetie, you've barely scratched the surface."

* * *

John checked the photo tacked to an easel with poster putty before fine-tuning a highlight on the sleeve of a portrait of Daria. Against an indistinct gray background and with arms crossed, she looked out while wearing one of her slender smiles. A sunrise was faintly reflected in Daria's glasses, but not enough to obscure her dark brown eyes.

Unnoticed by John, Alison leaned against the studio wall behind him and watched. After a while she said, "Must be your girlfriend."

He turned and said, "Hey, Alison. Yeah, that's Daria."

"She's got an interesting look, and you've got real talent to bring it out." 

"Doesn't she? And, thanks."

"No problem. Hey, why don't I drop by your place later and show you some of my stuff?"

"Sure. That would be cool." 

Alison levered herself away from the wall and stretched. "I'm off to take care of some stuff, see you later."

"Okay, later."

John focused his attention back on Daria's photo, then carefully added a little more to the painting. Alison walked toward the door, pausing to look over her shoulder while wearing a pleased smile.

* * *

"Maybe that's Daria," John said as he rolled off of the sofa upon hearing the telephone ring. He jogged to the kitchen where an old phone was attached to the wall. He picked up the corded handset and said, "Hello."

A woman's voice replied, "Uh, hi? Did I get a wrong number? Is this the Lanes?" 

"Summer? It's John."

"John? How are you?"

"I'm okay."

"I thought you were in Lawndale."

"I'm visiting Mom and Dad for the week."

"Ah. Are they home?"

"Not right now. Dad's locked in the photography studio's darkroom and Mom's somewhere."

"Oh. Well then, can you leave them a message?"

"Sure, let me find something to write it down." John stretched the phone cord and reached to the kitchen counter to grab a notepad and pen. "Go ahead." 

"Okay. Tell them that things are running a little tight after paying the private detectives to track down Courtney and Adrian. A couple hundred would really help out."

John's mood instantly soured. "You're calling to hit them up for money?"

"Yeah, just to tide me over."

"Look, things are a little tight for them right now. You better look somewhere else."

"What's gotten into you? They're always good for it."

"More like, they haven't been able to say no. How the hell do you think they ended up here?" 

"Don't shout at me."

"I'll damn well shout! You, Wind and Penny have been sucking off of them long enough! Dammit, always shelling out money to you three idiots is what ended up costing them the house!"

"I thought they forgot to leave the mortgage checks."

"Well, yeah, they did. But they had to take jobs all over just to keep up, leaving me and Trent to try to get by on maybe ten bucks a week at times. You got the cash and I got the shaft."

"You're exaggerating."

"No, I'm not! You don't have a clue about what happened! Tell you what, forget the message and go find somebody else to mooch off of for a while!" John slammed the phone back on the wall set. "Bitch!"

Seething, he went back to the sofa and fell back onto it, staring up at the ceiling. "Dammit!" Unable to calm down, he stayed that way while fuming at Summer for the call.

His missed the first knock on the door and barely noticed the second. "Maybe if I'm grumpy enough, they'll go away."

He slung the door open and was surprised at Alison standing outside, wearing cut-off jeans and a tube top. One hand held a stack of sketchbooks against her hip while the other was behind her back. She raised an eyebrow and asked, "Did I come at a bad time?"

He stepped back and shook his head. "Family crap that you really don't want to hear about."

"Are you going to invite me in?" 

That struck John as oddly funny and he chuckled. "Why, are you a vampire?"

"Just…being polite." 

"Come in, please. Want something to drink? We've got water and more varieties of fruit juice than you can imagine." 

Alison raised her second hand, which held a bottle of wine. "I brought my own."

* * *

"I haven't played with pastels much, but these are really cool," John said, looking at a book resting on the sofa between him and Alison, both sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Alison's delicately shaded and detailed drawings had distracted him away from family frustrations.

"My profs like them, but I haven't been able to get any galleries to pick them up." She took a drink from her wine bottle. "I guess it takes time." 

"I suppose. Right now, I'll be happy to get out of high school and into college. Then, I can worry about galleries." 

"I'm starting to think that I should've gotten an earlier start on the gallery thing. Something you might want to keep in mind."

John drained a bottle of kiwi juice and placed the empty on the floor. "I will; thanks."

Following another drink, Alison said, "You know, I started college thinking that the art world was this big fellowship of creators. Now…" She laughed bitterly. "…now, I'm starting to see it as a bunch of posers and users."

"Kind of what my brother's finding the music business to be like. His band is on a so-called tour. Mostly, they sleep in a van and pick up whatever gigs they can, hoping that they get paid."

"I guess life sucks all the way around."

"At least when it comes to family." John turned a page in the sketchbook. "Oh, wow. You know, my girlfriend would love to see this one."

"Really? It's rather dark."

"She has a poster of Kafka in her room. Yeah, she'll like it."

"Give me a quarter."

"Huh?"

"A quarter. I'm selling it to you."

"Are you serious?" 

"Yeah."

John dug a quarter from his pants pocket and handed it to Alison. "Thanks. Daria's gonna really like this."

"That means it'll have a good home." She laughed briefly and said, "You really like that girl." 

John nodded. "I guess it shows."

Alison spread her arms wide and looked down at her chest. "I've been here for a couple hours and you haven't even noticed these. I know my art isn't that good. So, yeah, it shows."

Embarrassed and confused, John stammered, "Gee, I, uh…sorry?"

"Oh jeez, don't apologize, kid. It was a compliment."

"Oh." 

Alison chuckled and shook her head. "Look, we're in your place and you're not drinking."

"I told you that I got into some of the band's stuff one time and…eww. Not a pretty sight."

"And I feel safe enough to drink and relax a bit."

"Oh…oh!" John said as said as what she said sunk in.

She finished off the bottle and then carefully removed the page from her sketchpad. "I hope she likes it."

"I'm sure Daria will."

Alison stood unsteadily and braced one hand against the sofa. "Your folks will probably be back soon and I bet explaining me in this condition will be a little difficult. I'm going to head over to my cabin and crash. See you later."

She picked up her books and the bottle before going to the front door.

John stood and followed her. "Be careful."

"I plan on it." Alison then spun quickly and kissed him on the cheek. "Tell that girl that she better hang on to you. You're a keeper and there's a lot of other girls that'll jump on you given half the chance." 

John watched in numb shock as she walked away, eventually closing the door. He sat back down on the sofa and looked at the drawing. "Can somebody please tell me what just happened?" 

Alison followed the footpath around a bend and out of sight of the Lane's cabin. She dropped the empty bottle in a trash can and sat down on a nearby bench. Clutching the books to her chest, Alison leaned back to stare up at the sky. Slowly, the young woman closed her eyes and sighed.

* * *

Vincent barged into the cabin and slammed the door closed behind him. "John!"

_I've got a bad feeling that I don't need to tell him about Summer's call. _John set aside the book he was reading and opened his bedroom door. "Yes?" 

Vincent entered the hall, saying, "How could you say that to your sister? She called the main office in a panic!" 

"How could I say it? Dad, I told her the truth." 

"The truth? What do you mean, the truth?"

"That everyone's mooching off you and Mom cost you the house and left me half on my own. That it was time for her to find another way to make ends meet!"

"And what gave you the right to say that?"

"I lived through it, remember?"

"You shouldn't have said anything. Summer wasn't ready."

John couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Wasn't ready?" he shouted. "She's almost thirty. When did you think she was going to be ready?"

"Someday, and she would've let us know."

"Oh, that's great. Let her decide. Have you noticed how well she makes decisions?"

Vincent's voice rose again. "Do you think you could do any better?"

"You mean, like having unprotected sex at sixteen? Yes!"

Vincent snorted.

"I learned from Summer's mistake, but she certainly didn't."

"It's not your place to say when anybody should have children!"

"As if any of Summer's kids were planned."

"Well, mister high and mighty, do you think you know all there is to know about parenting?" 

"Hell no, but Dad, don't you see? You haven't let Summer grow up. The same goes for Wind and Penny. They're overgrown kids not making it in the adult world."

"They're trying to find their way."

"Don't you think it's about time they did more than try?"

"You can't rush these things."

"Rush? They're not moving and they won't unless they get a push start. That has to come from you and Mom." 

Vincent shook his head and put his hands in his pockets. "Okay, maybe your mother and I have been a little lax, but it's hard to make your children grow up too fast."

John glared. "What do you think you did to me? Oh, Summer needs a couple hundred bucks to tide her over until the end of the month? No problem. Crap, I had to learn how to make twenty bucks last that long! I've already grown up more than those three have." 

"You're just being jealous."

"Dad, forget about me! I'm going to be all right. You and your oldest children are the ones getting screwed over. They're all still dependent, and at the slightest problem, they come running back. What are they going to do when you can't help them?"

At the door, Amanda quietly said, "We have to let them go." 

"Amanda?" Vincent said, startled. He stepped back and turned to face his wife.

She looked on the edge of tears. "They're dying. We have to let them go."

_Mom and her butterflies, but at least she's getting it._ John stepped to the side of his father. "Hi, Mom."

Amanda gave John a smile that struck him as particularly poignant. "You understand."

"But, we can't just cut them off," Vincent said.

"I guess not," John agreed. "But, they need to know…soon."

* * *

"So, Daria, what do you have planned?" Quinn asked, sticking her head into her sister's room unannounced.

Daria, lying propped up with pillows on her bed, looked up from her book and said, "For what, world domination?"

"For John coming home tomorrow."

"I'm just looking forward to seeing him."

"It's your first big welcome back-type deal as a couple. You have to do something special."

Daria closed the book. "I…know that holding each other will feel special. Otherwise, I can't think of anything."

"You can at least give him a kiss like you did when he left."

"You know, I think I can handle that."

* * *

"That's good, John," Amanda said after John stepped aside from Daria's portrait on the wall. He stepped back and mentally agreed that it was hanging level.

Vincent took his pipe from his mouth and said, "John, the bus into town is about to leave."

John nodded to his packed suitcase. "I'm ready." He hugged Amanda and said, "Goodbye, Mom. I'm going to miss you."

"Bye, John. I love you."

"I love you too, Mom."

John stepped over to his father, shuffled his feet and said, "I didn't come here to make a big confrontation."

His father nodded wordlessly.

"I know it wasn't easy, but I'm glad everyone knows."

Vincent said, "I shouldn't have put things off for so long." 

"I'll ask Helen about finding Wind some legal help to get his divorces cleared up and Summer help in collecting back child support."

"Thanks."

* * *

Vincent pointed his pipe at the portrait, which was near a photo of John. "Are you sure you want to leave that with us?" 

"Yeah. So you can have a small connection with Daria. She's important to me."

"Son, I promise to do a better job of keeping in touch. It would be nice if we could learn to get along better."

John nodded. "Especially if I'm going to apply for the summer program next year."

"Do you think you can stand being away from Daria that long?"

"I'm going to ask her to come along. I think this place could inspire some good writing."

Amanda said, "I hope she can come here with you. I'd like that."

"Okay, Mom." 

Vincent looked at his watch. "Time."

After a moment's uncertainty, father and son quickly embraced and then separated. John said, "Bye, Dad."

"Goodbye, John."

John picked up his suitcase and opened the door. He turned and waved to his parents before walking the short distance to the waiting bus. The last of the summer program students were boarding as he reached it, so he kept his suitcase as a carryon and got on board. He walked down the narrow aisle until he found a seat near the back. John placed his luggage on the overhead rack and sat down, looking out the window at his parents outside. Soon, the bus started and he gave them a final wave as the bus pulled away.

"It's been cool meeting you," Alison said, popping her head up from the seat behind him.

"Nice meeting you," he replied.

She came around and sat next to John. "Any chance I'll see you here next year?"

"I'm going to apply for the regular program."

"Hey, that's great. What about your girl?"

"Hopefully, she'll be here, too."

"Cool. I bet we can have a lot of fun." 

"I hope so."

"Good luck surviving another year of high school."

"Good luck with the galleries."

* * *

After the transfer to a long-haul bus and the long, lonely drive with stops in numerous small towns before reaching Lawndale, John was exhausted when he finally stepped off of it.

His weary eyes opened when he felt soft arms around his chest and a warm kiss on his lips.

"Welcome back," Daria softly said.

"That was some welcome. I feel whole again." 

After a quick look back at Helen, Daria rested her head against John and said, "Me too."

* * *

Unpacking, John tossed his dirty clothes into a pile and separated out everything else. Finally, he removed the wrapped pastel drawing and presented it to Daria. "Hey, I even picked up a souvenir for you."

She said, "That doesn't look like a lousy t-shirt."

John laughed. "Nah, it's some artwork from one of the other students. I think you'll like it." 

Daria unwrapped the drawing and said, "Wow, you're right." Looking closer, she read the name and playfully said, "Alison? Should I be worried?"

"Nah." 

Daria looked again at the drawing and then kissed him. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." John then said, "If Helen's working this weekend, it looks like all bets are off for making up the lost cruise."

Daria smiled. "Therefore, sparing me having to look for anything like a swimsuit. Sometimes, procrastination is still the best policy."

John shook his head. "And sometimes, the worst."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

July 2006


	20. Hear No Beauty, See No Beauty

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the twentieth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Hear No Beauty, See No Beauty**

Answering the persistent knocking at his door, John peeked out from under a sheet and said, "It can't be Monday yet. I'm not ready for school to start."

On the other side of the door, Helen said, "Doesn't your brother's band drive around in a black van that's, um, seen better days?"

"It's a piece of junk that's held together with duct tape and baling wire." 

"It's parked in the middle of the driveway and blocking both cars. Can you please ask them to move so Jake can get out?" 

John rolled and fell from the bed onto his hands and knees. Staggering up, he pulled the top t-shirt from an open dresser drawer and pulled it over his head. Stopping before the door, he looked down to check that he was wearing shorts before opening it. "Sure." 

"Thanks, John."

The Tank was parked crookedly in the Morgendorffer driveway with the windows open. John looked into the driver's window and saw Max asleep. Nick was curled into a fetal position on the passenger seat and John hoped that Trent and Jesse were somewhere in the darkness behind. "Max," John said while shaking the bald drummer's shoulder. "Max!" 

"Wuh?" Max mumbled as his eyes opened and he looked around in confusion. "Where?"

"My place." 

"Oh."

"Why are you here?" 

"Uh…Trent wanted something."

"What's that?"

"Hey, you'll have to ask him."

"Is he in the back?"

"Should be."

"I better check." John stepped over and opened the sliding side door of the van. Jesse was sprawled against a stack of amplifiers and Trent was curled up around his guitar case. John pushed on Trent and said, "Hey, Trent! Wake up!"

"Really Monique, it's nothing like that," Trent mumbled as he almost woke up. 

John quickly said, "Not another word, Trent! I don't want to know!"

"Mmm. Oh, hey Johnny. How'd you get here?"

"I live here. You're parked in the driveway. Max said you needed something?"

"Yeah. Can I borrow your key to my place?"

"You lost yours?" 

"Um, no. I forgot it. Might be on the kitchen table." 

"Give me a minute to run upstairs for my keys. I'll also check to see if Helen can give me a ride back from your apartment." 

"You don't have to bother her, you can just loan me your keys."

"Trent…why are you borrowing my keys?" 

"Oh, yeah."

* * *

Riding in the passenger seat of her red SUV, Helen said, "Thank God that wretched exploding ketchup suit is finally over."

Cautiously driving the truck, Daria said, "I thought you lost."

"We should've won, but I'm still glad it's over."

"Oh, so you can spend some mother/daughter bonding time with me, right?" From time to time as Daria drove, she turned her head slightly to the left or right to clear the peripheral blind spots caused by her glasses. She noticed a bulldog trotting across the road and braked early to avoid it. 

Helen said, "Exactly. I mean, look at you. The last time I gave you a driving lesson, you, um…"

"I scared you half to death."

"I didn't mean…"

"No, but it's the truth."

Slightly embarrassed, Helen said, "Well, yes. But look at how much you've improved." 

"Monique's a very hardy driving teacher."

"I really need to find a way to thank her."

Daria half-smiled. "A gift certificate to Axel's would probably work." 

"You're not thinking…"

"No, Mom. One piercing is enough for me."

"Please don't be offended that I'm still relieved to hear that."

"No offense taken."

Turning to look out of the side window, Helen asked, "Daria, what do you and Monique talk about during your driving lessons?"

"She talks about Trent a lot."

"John's brother?"

"One and the same. Monique and Trent break up and get back together more often than Quinn buys shoes."

"Oh."

"And she warns John that if he ever acts the same toward me, she's breaking his legs. If…she's in a good mood. Otherwise, she'll get ugly."

"Sounds like an older sister."

"In a way. But I think the lessons also give her a chance to blow off steam to people that won't tell her friends."

Daria stopped the truck and then made a turn into a narrow side street to drive behind Axel's Piercing Parlor, bumping the curb with a tire in the process. "Oops."

"Do you talk about anything else?" Helen said, letting the small error pass unmentioned.

"She talks about the Harpies, her band. From what I can tell, they're a little better than Mystik Spiral, but not by much."

"That's interesting, but what do you talk about?"

Daria sighed and said, "Sometimes it sucks to have a lawyer for a mother. You're hard to sidetrack." 

"And you're still evading my question."

Hesitant, Daria said, "I talk about John some, and also about you and Dad and Quinn."

Helen kept her eyes focused to the side and avoided looking at Daria. "Things I'd hoped you would talk with me about."

Sensing her mother's mood, Daria said, "Some, maybe, but also no. Be honest: you didn't talk to Grandma about everything when you were my age."

Helen felt a smile form and she turned back to Daria. "No, I didn't. But, I know what I didn't want to tell Mother and that makes me even more curious about what you don't want to tell me."

Daria stopped the SUV behind the Tank and turned off the engine. "Which makes me curious about what you didn't want to tell Grandma. Why don't we call it even?"

"Okay, for now." Helen winked at Daria and added, "Sometimes, it stinks to have a daughter that learns from you too quickly."

Mother and daughter left the truck and walked past the van and Trent's car to his apartment. Since the door was already open, Helen knocked on the frame instead. 

"Hey, Mrs. M.," Trent called from inside. Wiping his hands on his pants, he stepped out of the small bedroom and said, "Uh, sorry 'bout the mess. Been on the road."

Helen looked around the disorganized apartment and said, "I find it hard to find time to do housework myself."

John followed his brother out of the room. "Thanks for coming to my rescue." 

Daria said, "Damn, and I forgot my shining armor." 

Trent stopped and rubbed his chin. "Hmm," He sat down on an old sofa and grabbed a notebook and pencil, scribbling while muttering, "Damsel in shining armor…"

John grabbed Daria and Helen's arms, pulling them out of the apartment. "You don't want to be around when he's writing. There's a reason Jesse and the rest of Mystik Spiral ended up the way they are."

* * *

Walking down a corridor of Lawndale High with John, Daria said, "Wow, only 359 school days left until graduation." 

"Now that's a cheerful thought," John replied. 

"Doing my part to prepare you for reality."

"I'm hoping that you can get me on the newspaper staff so I don't have to go digging for some other extracurricular activity."

With a droll tease, Daria said, "Yearbook not your cup of tea?" 

"Working with Stacy Rowe's living Ken doll would be way too freaky…even for a Lane."

"That's it…don't take responsibility for the consequences of your actions." 

"Hey, all I did was point Ted toward her during that stupid medieval fair. The rest is their fault."

"Throwing an innocent at the Fashion Lions."

"Eh, they needed an alpha male to sit around and do nothing while they went out to do all the work."

"Ms. Barch is going to love hearing you say something like that."

"Do I look that stupid?"

"Hmm. I suppose not." Daria opened a door and they stepped into the workroom of the _Lawndale Lowdown_. 

Jodie Landon immediately looked up and smiled with open relief. "You are coming back, good."

Daria answered, "Mom still wants to make sure that we have enough after school activity to keep our hands off each other."

"I'm still glad you're here."

"Jodie, do you have room for a cartoonist?"

Looking at John, Jodie said, "Don't make it a political cartoon. It's hard enough work keeping Daria's columns in the paper at times."

He quickly said, "Deal." 

"That was easy."

"Considering my alternatives for everyday after school activities are sports or yearbook, I won't look a gift horse in the mouth."

"Great. Think you can have a 'welcome back' cartoon ready by Friday?" 

"Sure. Oh, by the way, are you okay with abstracts?"

* * *

Placing her fork on top of the emptied dinner plate, Quinn said, "After Sandi brought it up, all of us agreed immediately. A bunch of boys are going to make the Fashion Advice booth and we'll have it up by next week."

Daria doubtfully said, "Sandi's idea?"

Quinn smirked at Daria. "With a little help."

Helen cut her meatloaf with a fork and said, "I want to see how well this booth works out. If it fizzles, you still have to find an after school activity." 

"Trust me, Mom. I'm not going to let it fizzle." 

"I'd say the prospect of another year babysitting the Gupty kids would be good incentive," John said.

"And what did you find, John?" Helen asked in return.

"I'm the new cartoonist for the _Lowdown_."

"Cartoons?" Jake said, perking up.

"John's going to do a comic for the school paper," Daria explained.

Jake rested his chin on his hand. "I miss _Calvin and Hobbes_."

"Hmm," John said while thinking. "A football player and his…" 

Daria warned, "Don't make me hurt you."

"You're still writing that column, right Daria?" Helen asked.

She answered, "Yes. Jodie still doesn't think I'm safe to send out as a reporter, and I agree."

John tapped Daria's arm. "_The Down Side_ could also work…"

Jake shook his head. "I don't know. Those talking cows were creepy." 

Daria glared at John.

He grinned and said, "_Doom County_?"

* * *

Mack MacKenzie trotted ahead of Jodie to catch up with Daria and John, tapping him on the shoulder. "Your latest _Lawndale Cynema_ strip is great. Darius and Jane crack me up. But if Ms. Barch ever figures out what their comments about _The Island of Dr. Moreau_ really mean…"

"They might need DNA to identify me," John said, finishing the sentence. "But it's worth it."

Jodie caught up with the group and said, "It's only been a few weeks and I swear that you two are going to give me gray hair before I'm a senior." 

"Come on, Jodie," Daria said. "You're enjoying it; that's why you haven't shut us down."

"Besides, she knows we can't go too far. The alternative activities are far worse," John said.

"I have to admit, the paper isn't as dull as it used to be," Jodie said.

* * *

Mr. DeMartino leaned forward on his desk and addressed the class. "And so, the Democratic Party came to be associated with the 'welfare state,' and the Republican Party with a more Darwinian approach. Which do you favor? Kevin!"

Kevin Thompson quickly said, "Darwin's the monkey guy, right? I like monkeys." 

Mr. DeMartino shouted in frustration, "A statement no doubt once also made by your mother!"

"No. She's more into kitties," was Kevin's clueless response.

Brittany Taylor said, "I love kitties!"

Daria quietly said to John, "That was way too much information."

Losing patience, Mr. DeMartino said, "That's terrific, Brittany, and really adds an extra dimension to today's lesson!" Seeing the principal walk into the room, he said, "Uh, Ms. Li, I wonder if I might…"

She sharply replied, "Forget it! I've already told you: no staff resignations while class is in session." 

He grumbled behind Ms. Li as she announced to the class, "Students, aren't we a bunch of lucky so-and-sos? With all that this great land has given us, shouldn't we think about giving back just a little?"

Daria said, "She's right. I'm going to renounce my citizenship."

Ms. Li paid no attention to Daria and went on, "So, as part of the school district's first annual Awareness of Others Week, I'm asking each Lawndale High student to sign up for an extracurricular activity to make the world a better place."

John asked, "What if we already have extracurricular activities?"

"This is on top of anything you may already be doing for Lawndale High. I want you to get out there and give back to the community."

"For everything that they've given us," Daria said.

"Exactly," Ms. Li said. "100 participation will earn me, um, us special recognition from the superintendent of schools. Now, I want all of you to go out there and make me…make the school look good. Resume learning!"

Not allowing time for any more comments, Ms. Li turned on a heel and made a fast exit from the room.

Trying to salvage class after the interruption, Mr. DeMartino said, "Class, dare I ask whether anyone can relate this appeal for volunteerism to the political philosophies we've been discussing today? Kevin." 

The QB said, "You know what's cool about that Darwin guy? When Curious George gets in trouble, he always lets him slide." 

Mr. DeMartino shuddered and ran from the room, calling, "Ms. Li, wait! Hear a desperate man's plea!"

* * *

Leaving the newspaper work room, Jodie said, "Have you guys signed up for one of the new extracurriculars yet?" 

Next out of the door, Daria shook her head. "No. Figured we'd stop by on the way out."

"Um, the good slots were filling up fast. I hope you find something fun."

John closed the room door and said, "It's one of Li's brilliant plans. You know it's not going to be fun."

"Besides," Daria said. "Shouldn't volunteerism actually be voluntary?" 

Jodie said, "Mack should be out of football practice. I'll see you tomorrow."

John and Daria said, "Bye," as they parted ways with Jodie.

A short distance down the hall, they stopped in front of the signup sheets and saw that almost all of them were full.

John read one, "Teaching arts and crafts at the children's hospital. Too bad it's full."

"Ooh, picking up trash along the Lawndale Freeway," Daria read. "That sounds like a ton of fun."

"Reading to senior citizens?" John asked.

Daria shrugged.

"You like reading."

"I think road kill would be more interesting."

"Wouldn't you rather put your people skills to use?"

"People skills?"

"How about avoiding physical labor?"

"Okay, sign us up."

* * *

Holding a green jacket with two fingers, Quinn pushed it into Daria's room and said, "I found the one that got away." 

Daria and John sat on the floor in front of Daria's bookshelf with several piles of books between them. Daria asked, "Where was it?"

"In my closet."

John said, "Any particular reason it was there?"

"How should I know? Mom must've hung it there by mistake."

"And you haven't noticed it until now?" Daria asked with disbelief. 

Quinn shrugged. "It was all the way back into that hard to reach side part."

"Digging for buried treasure?" John said.

"The Fashion Club is collecting clothes for the homeless, so we're checking our old stuff for anything that might help."

Pulling at her khaki shirt and open, green vest, Daria said, "I don't need all of those jackets anymore. Why don't you go ahead and add that to the donations?"

John said, "I have some stuff that I could also toss in." 

Daria and John were amused by the different ideas and emotions that crossed Quinn's face as she said, "Oh, we want to…um…we'd be glad to take your donations."

* * *

Walking up to the entrance of the Better Days Retirement Home, John said to Daria, "Nervous?"

"A little." 

"Why? Look at how well your reading went over at the coffee house."

"The football team rioted in the street trying to find the Russian Embassy."

"Okay. But, I don't think the residents here are going to riot. Or be that much of a threat if they do."

"Thanks, that helps a lot," was Daria's unenthused reply.

"Any time." 

A nurse answered the door after they knocked and said, "Hello. Oh, you must be from the high school. Come on in. We can always use a couple rays of sunshine around here. Some of your classmates have already arrived."

Brittany called from the other side of the room, "Hey, Kevvy, look who's here." 

Kevin hurried over and tried, unsuccessfully, to be keep his voice quiet as he said, "Daria, John, did you know there aren't any high school seniors here? They're old people and we have to read to them."

Daria put her hands on her hips and said, "Talk about bait and switch."

Kevin tilted his head and said, "Daria, we're supposed to read to them, not go fishing."

* * *

John yawned and said to the elderly gentleman in a hospital bed next to where he was seated, "I'm sorry, Mr. Alden. I thought this book was going to be more interesting."

The man's eyelids opened and he said, "I've read worse. What's the other book?"

"Sorry, that's my sketchpad. Nothing to read in there."

"Has to be better than the crappy art they put up around here."

"The paint-by-number kits my grandma used to send me are better than the art they put up around here."

* * *

Seeing Daria's scowl, John said, "That bad?" as the two left the retirement home for the walk home.

"One lady wanted to pummel me with her walker and some guy unplugged his respirator to get the nurse's attention for me to leave. All in all, a very, very bad experience. You don't seem to be too bad." 

"My book went over like a dead rat."

"Maybe you should've given it to Kevin for his _Adventures of Ratboy_ marathon."

"But Mr. Alden liked my sketchbook. I think I'll just bring it tomorrow and skip the reading part." 

"At least you have an alternative."

"Maybe you just had a couple of cranky inmates."

"Didn't you notice how they were falling all over Kevin and Brittany? It's just like high school. What's popular there is popular here." 

"Got a point. Guess I was lucky finding somebody with taste in art."

"I think I'd rather pick up road kill."

"We should see plenty on the walk home. You can get in some practice."

Daria sighed and said, "Walking home on top of that humiliation just takes the cake." 

"I wish we could drive."

"Need a car first."

"Trent hardly uses his car."

"We'd need to get our licenses."

John stopped and put a hand on Daria's arm to stop her. "Great idea."

Daria turned her head. "I don't know if I'm ready yet."

"Only one way to find out; let's hit up your parents when we get home." 

"I don't know."

John pointed to a rancid, unidentifiable smear on the road. "Do you really prefer road kill?"

"Not when the bones have already been pulped."

"Look at the other options that will be open when we can drive. I think we're ready."

Daria held his hand and squeezed. "Now the truth comes out. You just want to drive out to the old quarry and have your way with me. These boots still say, 'I can kick you where it hurts.'"

"And I believe them. But admit it; driving will make our lives easier." 

"I just don't know if I'm ready."

"We've been practicing all summer. You're ready."

"I don't feel ready."

"Trust me. Please?"

Daria leaned against his arm. "I trust you. Sometimes, I don't think I trust myself."

* * *

Helen sat back in her seat at the dinner table and said, "Having both of you available to run errands has some distinct advantages. For one thing, it will save me or your father from having to make so many trips to the mall with Quinn."

Quinn gulped.

John apologetically shrugged and said to Daria, "You knew there'd be a price."

"That's right," Helen said. There's a lot of trust and responsibility involved and I, uh, we expect some consideration in return. Right, Jake?" 

"Sure, honey," Jake said. "What time?" 

"What time for what?"

Jake suddenly put his watch to his ear. "What time is it? I think my watch stopped." 

Helen gave him an exasperated, "Jake," before saying, "Don't you think we should expect a little consideration from Daria and John in return for their driver's licenses?" 

"They have their licenses? Dammit, why doesn't anybody tell me these things? What about our insurance? It's going to skyrocket with two teenage drivers! And a car. You know they're going to want a car. Can't drive around in the parents' car. No…" Jake looked up and his voice rose to a scream. "I don't want to drive your piece of junk, Old Man! I'm going to get something made after the Second World War!"

"Dad," Daria explained, "We're going to borrow Trent's car."

"Huh? Oh, um, yeah, sure. But when did you get your licenses?"

"We haven't yet, Dad."

"But…"

John said, "Jake, why don't you run us up to the DMV after school tomorrow?"

"Sure! John-O."

"What about the school newspaper?" Helen asked.

"I've finished my column for the week and I've been helping Jodie copy-edit other stuff. I can miss a day," Daria said. "And, John's doing okay on his comic."

"Okay," Helen said. "You have a deal. And, I'll have Marianne call tomorrow about adding you to our insurance."

* * *

Leaving Mr. DeMartino's class the next day, Brittany fell into step next to Daria. "I'm so sorry you're not popular at the nursing home. I mean, you've been making so much progress at school." 

Daria said, "We can't all be as gifted as you are, Brittany."

Kevin laughed and said, "Yeah, but maybe you'll have a late growth spurt."

His laugh was cut short by "Oof!" when Brittany elbowed him before saying, "I don't want you to lose your confidence. Kevin…" She paused and gave him an angry glare. "…and I were talking, and we think it's your voice. It's, like, a total bummer!"

Still trying to be helpful, Kevin said, "Hey, I know what might help you. I got kicked once during practice and my voice..."

John cut him off, "I wouldn't make that suggestion if I were you." 

"Huh?"

"Steel-toed boots." 

"Oh."

While John was saving Kevin, Daria said, "Well Brittany, we can't all have your rich, soothing voice."

Brittany brightened, "Wait! I can help you!"

"Help me?"

"Yes! Daria, come to my house after school and we'll see what we can do. We're supposed to be helping the unfortunate, and this way, I can help everyone!"

"Sorry Brittany. John and I will be at the DMV office after school."

"Man, I hate having to go to those driving classes to keep the points off my license," Kevin complained. "Hey, I have all the answers if you need them."

John said, "Um, we're going to get our licenses."

"Aw, man. You must've really messed up to be grounded this long."

Brittany met Daria's gaze and shook her head.

* * *

Jake drummed one foot on the floor and stared at the windowless wall of the Department of Motor Vehicles office. "What could be taking them so long? Something must've happened!" 

Flipping his new license between his fingers, John said, "They haven't been gone any longer than I was." _No wonder they don't allow parents in the car when a kid takes their test._

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." 

Jake squirmed and rubbed his hands together. John tried to assure him. "Daria's not going to wreck your car."

"But what about all the maniacs on the road? Speeders, tailgaters, running red lights, psychos with road rage? It's a jungle out there." 

"She's been practicing, remember?"

"But…she's still so…"

John half-smiled at realizing the core of Jake's worry, but became a little more serious when he said, "It must be hard watching your children grow up."

"Yeah. Why can't they stay your little girls forever?"

"I don't know."

"It doesn't seem that long ago she learned to ride a bicycle."

John turned his head. "I've never pictured Daria on a bicycle."

"She was, um, always a little clumsy and stopped riding it when she was eight or so. After that, she just walked."

"A few scraped knees and such. I remember those."

"Not really. She always wore knee pads and a helmet."

"That, I can see."

"Daria was always smart about things and didn't like to be hurt." Jake patted John's shoulder and said, "Which says something about you."

A balding man entered the office with Daria a pace behind. He said, "Exactly at the cutoff. You passed."

Daria looked surprised. "I did?"

The test supervisor removed a form from his clipboard and handed it over the front counter to a clerk as he told Daria, "I wouldn't suggest doing a lot of parallel parking, but yes, you passed."

The clerk spent a couple seconds reading the test form and entering data into a computer. He pointed at a small cubicle and said, "Please have a seat for your photo."

Daria barely had time to sit down before a digital camera flashed and the clerk said, "Thank you. Your license will be ready in a couple minutes."

Blinking, Daria stepped over to John and Jake. "I always thought you were supposed to feel something other than temporary blindness when you passed one of life's milestones."

John said, "Doesn't knowing that you're permanently in the government's database make you feel wanted?"

Daria pointed her thumb at the camera booth. "Only if they use that photo on the poster."

His attention seemingly focused in the distance, Jake whispered, "No more training wheels."

Daria asked John, "Do you know what he's talking about?"

He simply shrugged his shoulders.

* * *

Trent patted his pockets and said, "I know the key's around here somewhere."

John held up his key-ring. "You gave me a copy last year so I wouldn't have to dig through your pockets when you were too far gone to drive."

"Oh, yeah. Good thinking."

Daria said, "We appreciate it, Trent."

"It's okay, don't drive it much since I moved here," Trent said, indicating his apartment.

Monique stepped up behind Trent and said, "That's because you hardly ever have gas money and get around in my car or Max's Tank. Daria, John, congrats. Now I'll have to find something else to do Saturday mornings."

Trent said, "Come on, Johnny. I need to get some stuff before you borrow the car."

"Sure, Trent."

After the brothers went outside to the car, Monique said, "Gonna miss having you to talk to." 

"Contrary to appearances, I am capable of talking on the phone. That is, if Quinn doesn't have it tied up."

"I get the hint. But, that also goes both ways."

Daria nodded. "Um, yeah. I suppose it does."

Outside, John looked at the box Trent lifted from the truck and said, "Yeah, driving around with a case of beer in the trunk would be a really bad idea."

"Besides, the band gets really thirsty during practice."

John inspected the trunk for anything else that might cause trouble and was pleased to only find a bald spare tire with a 4-way lug wrench and hydraulic jack held down by bungee cords. _I have a feeling we're going to be dipping into our cash reserves to keep this thing on the road._

Watching Trent take the beer to his refrigerator, Monique quietly said to Daria, "I'll make the first call."

* * *

Seeing John stepping out of the passenger side of Trent's car, Kevin said as he parked his Jeep, "Whoa, Daria's driving?" 

Daria stepped out, closed the door and asked, "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Yeah, Kevvy," Brittany said, narrowing her eyes in anger.

"Um…" Kevin sensed something was wrong and tried to get out of it by saying, "It's okay, John. I'm sure you'll pass the test next time."

John pulled a quarter from his pocket as he walked toward the building. "Daria won the coin toss." 

"Oh! Uh, yeah, cool, dude," Kevin said, though thoroughly confused.

Daria met John behind the car and took his hand, saying, "I think they need some time alone."

"I think we need to get out of splatter range."

"That, too."

* * *

John took a seat next to the woman with long, silver hair, gazed at the dark glasses over her eyes and back down at his art books. "Um, hi Mrs. Eliopoulos."

She moved her head to keep one ear facing toward him. "Good afternoon, young man. John, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"So, what did you bring?"

"Well, um, I wasn't that good at reading stories last time, so…I brought a couple of my art books and my sketch pad."

"Oh, really? What kind?" 

"A book on the Impressionists, one on the Renaissance painters and one on mid-century experimental forms."

"You must be interested in art."

"Yeah. I kind of hope to be an artist when I get out of high school."

"I so miss seeing art. Damn macular degeneration." She reached out and felt around, locating the top book. Slowly, she opened it and said, "Would you mind telling me about what's there?" 

"Um, you mean the artwork shown on the page?" 

"Please. You're an artist, I'm sure you can figure out how to describe it."

* * *

Daria said, "Good night, Mrs. Blaine. I'll see you next time."

When Daria stood up, Mrs. Blaine said, "Thank you, dear."

"You're welcome." 

When he walked up, John said, "Hey, looks like you found an appreciative audience. I just had the oddest experience." 

"John," Daria said, "So did I. Mrs. Blaine is deaf."

He stopped and asked, "Are you sure?" 

"Positive. What was odd about your experience?" 

"Mrs. Eliopoulos is blind."

Daria started walking again, at a faster pace. "They certainly set us up, didn't they?"

"Looks like it."

Silent, they walked out to the car. As they neared it, John said, "Remember, I get to drive back."

"Don't worry; you'll get your turn."

After they were both buckled in and John started the car, he said, "Let's get out of here."

* * *

"Owww, my feet," Quinn moaned as John and Daria came in the house. Her head was tilted over the back of a sofa and her recently coiffed hair limply dangled down.

"Looks like somebody else's day sucked," Daria said.

Quinn rolled her head to see them. "We walked around all afternoon and only got a pair of boots and a belly chain to add to your stuff." 

John asked, "Why didn't Sandi drive you around in her car?"

"Um, she's kind of not allowed to drive for a while. It's not something we talk about."

Daria said, "Okay, you had to walk. But, it looks like you found time to have your hair done."

"Marketing," Quinn answered. "We had to look good if we wanted people to donate." 

"Doesn't sound like it worked," Daria said.

Quinn sighed and looked back up at the ceiling. "Oh, it did. We were too picky."

"Too picky?" John asked.

"We didn't want to give the homeless anything unfashionable. You know, so that they'd feel good about themselves."

"Quinn," Daria said. "I'm sure that the recipients would be happy with anything that's clean and in good shape. Knowing that someone was willing to spend time to help them would add more to their self-esteem then the latest fashion."

Quinn said, "Yeah. But, it's kind of too late now."

Daria turned to John. "Only if you're just after recognition from school."

"But why…" Seeing John's eyes meeting Daria's, Quinn said, "Uh-oh, you two are going into couple mode again. I'll ask later."

* * *

Ms. Li stood at the auditorium podium and addressed the assembled student body. "I'd like to congratulate everyone on a very successful Awareness of Others Week. Our 100 participation has earned us a special commendation from the superintendent of schools." She started to read from a commendation letter, "'Dear Ms. Li, congratulations to all the students...' Oh, blah, blah. Ah! 'Rarely does one encounter an administrator with your unique blend of drive and compassion. You are one very special educator, and a very special lady.'" She girlishly giggled at the last comment before catching herself and finishing with, "Oh. 'Of course, the students also...' Et cetera, I won't bore you."

Slumped back in her seat, Daria opened one eye and said, "Promises, promises…"

Also opening one eye, John said, "She must be practicing to run for public office."

Ms. Li held up a medallion. "Now, let's acknowledge our most outstanding volunteers: Mr. Thompson and Ms. Taylor."

Amid loud applause from the audience, Kevin and Brittany stepped out on stage and Brittany accepted the medal. "I'd like to dedicate this award to the senior citizens at the Better Days Nursing Home, who taught me a very valuable lesson: always wear your sunscreen." 

Kevin waved his fist in the air and yelled, "Yeah! Ratboy rocks!"

Almost lost in the sound of cheers, Daria said, "Where are the big blue bolts from heaven when you need them?"

John asked, "For them or us?"

"Either one will end our suffering."

After Brittany and Kevin stepped off stage, Ms. Li announced, "Now, let us welcome Lawndale High's Fashion Club, here to present a generous donation of clothes for the needy."

The four girls walked out on stage with Quinn carrying a box. Ms. Li looked inside the box and said, "That's all?" Without missing a beat in an attempt to spin things in her favor, Ms. Li held up a Lawndale High track suit from the box and said, "At least they'll know where the donations came from."

John said to Daria, "It's not like I'm ever going to wear that again."

Sandi said, "We were careful. Just because they're poor doesn't mean that they should be unfash…"

Ms. Li held up Daria's donated jacket. 

Sandi stammered and said, "Um…that they, uh, shouldn't have sturdy clothes. To last a long time."

"Sturdy," Daria mused. "That's one I haven't heard before."

Ms. Li set the box behind her and said, "Well then, thank you, the Lawndale High Fashion Club, for such a thoughtful donation."

* * *

On the telephone, Daria said, "Weird thinking of Ms. Li as a math teacher, but she had to have done something before becoming a principal."

Monique said, "When we heard she wasn't going to teach math any more, we were thrilled, and then the superintendent dropped the bomb that she'd be principal for our senior year."

"That's just cruel."

"Really. But, we escaped."

Quinn knocked on the door and said, "Daria, time to leave."

"Okay, Quinn," Daria said, and then told Monique, "We're ready to go. Talk to you later."

"Later."

Daria switched off the phone, grabbed a notebook, and joined John and Quinn waiting in the hall. Going downstairs, Quinn said, "Look, you can just drop me off at the edge of the mall parking lot and I'll walk from there."

"You'll accept a ride, but can't be seen in my brother's car," John said.

Quinn said, "It looks like something from that Hazard Ducks TV show."

"Nonsense," John said, amused at the name confusion. "It would never make it through the first five minutes without falling apart."

"And you want me to ride in it?"

Daria said, "Do you want to ride the bus?"

Quinn sighed. "The things we must endure."

* * *

Picking up a box from the back seat, John asked, "What'd you bring?"

"My latest Melody Powers story," Daria said, holding up her notebook. "What in the world is in the box?"

"I decided to bring a couple of sculptures along."

"Nice thought."

"Thanks." 

Daria nodded to the entrance of Better Days Retirement Home. "Let's go."

* * *

Theresa at the Junior 5 department of Cashman's said, "Quinn, this is really nice. I was a bit disappointed when everyone turned down the stuff from the half-off rack for that clothes-for-the-homeless drive. But this…" She indicated the box she'd just sealed. "…is wonderful. And don't worry about delivery to the shelter. We'll cover it."

"Thanks. Look, can you do me a favor and not say anything? To anyone?" 

Theresa said, "Sure. In that case, what do you want me to write on the donor card?"

Finger to her chin, Quinn thought for several seconds and said, "Melody Powers." 

"You've got it." Theresa wrote on a card and taped it to the box. After a quick glance out into the store, she said, "Better get this under cover."

Moments later, Sandi, Stacy and Tiffany walked into the department. Sandi said, "Hi, Quinn. Trying to get to the newest releases before the rest of us?" 

Quinn waved her hand. "Oh no, Sandi. My ride got here early and I was just waiting for you."

* * *

John and Daria crossed the main common room of the retirement home, overhearing bits of conversation.

"Brittany? Who was that again?"

"I never listened to a word she said, if you know what I mean."

"Forget Kevin, my granddaughter's visiting today."

"Just like kids today. Here one day, gone the next."

The duty nurse kept her head lowered as she glanced at Daria and John walking past, pretending to concentrate on paperwork. Once they had gone by, she gazed down the hall at where the teens sat with Mrs. Blaine and Mrs. Eliopoulos. The nurse smiled at the two real volunteers and thought, Damn, I'm good.

* * *

Dialog from _The Old and the Beautiful_ by Rachelle Romberg

Thanks to Angelboy for ideas that led to _Lawndale Cynema_

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

August 2006


	21. Apocalypse Dance

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the twenty-first John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Apocalypse Dance**

Seated at the Morgendorffer kitchen table, Trent hungrily tore through leftover lasagna while Daria and John looked on. Trent said, "This is good, thanks."

John asked, "Trent…is the money situation still a little tight?"

Around a mouthful of food, he mumbled, "It's okay."

Daria said, "Your music distracts you from little things, like eating."

"Cool, Daria. You understand."

"Um, sure." Daria eased John over to the kitchen counter while Trent continued eating. "Only a desperate man, or one with absolutely no active taste buds, would eat that stuff cold."

"Lanes can eat anything." John explained, "Several years ago, Trent lived in a tent in the back yard for six months and ate the sandwiches I brought out to him. My sister Summer survived on only Pez for a year. You don't want to know some of the stuff Penny's claimed to have eaten in Central America, or that she's brought home."

"Can't be any worse than Dad's 'survival training' stories from military school."

Trent scraped the bottom of the lasagna pan and said, "Got any more?"

Daria asked, "You're still hungry?"

"Nah, but the Tank has some holes in the roof."

John warned his brother, "Don't let Helen hear that."

* * *

In Ms. Defoe's art classroom, John stared at his canvas in mild frustration. He and the rest of the students were arrayed in a circle around a classic still life of vases, flowers and fruit. The subjects in his painting were oversized and crushed against the edge of the canvas. The side of one vase was broken off to seemingly fit within the border and the shards scattered below. The flower stems were bent over at the top edge and the flowers themselves drooped below. _Dammit. All that reading about Pollack and Michelangelo makes me want something big. Really big._

From behind her easel, Brittany leaned over to look at John's work. "I don't think you're supposed to make them fit like that. Couldn't you just paint the stuff smaller?"

"Eh, I paint 'em as I see 'em."

"Ohhh." Brittany looked at the subjects and then back at the painting before whispering, "Maybe Daria's glasses will help."

The school principal abruptly entered the room. After a brief look around the room, Ms. Li said, "Good morning, students. Where is your instructor?"

Brittany twirled her hair and replied, "She went to the ladies' room."

Ms. Li quickly spoke into a small recorder, "10:25, Defoe leaves post without clearance for personal business. Initiate investigation." After pocketing the recorder, she addressed the students, saying, "Anyway, I just dropped in to caution you that the school dance is in two weeks, and security is going to be especially tight. So, if anyone is thinking of rigging a bucket of pig's blood to the rafters, well, they can just forget it."

After Ms. Li made a fast exit, Daria said, "Damn, now what am I going to do with four quarts of blood?"

Kevin Thompson said, "I know. You can put it in a bucket to fall on someone's head during the dance, like in that old movie. Dairy, or uh, something."

"Gee, Kevin. Why didn't I think of that?"

He shrugged his shoulders and said, "I dunno. Maybe John needs to take you out to dances more. Hey! You two can come to the dance with Brittany and me. It'll be cool."

"I don't know…" Daria started to answer.

Brittany quickly glanced at Daria and John as she slipped beside Kevin to say, "What a great idea! We can show them around…together." The last word was sternly accented.

"Oh, um, sure babe."

"Wow, this will be fun," Brittany cheerfully said, but with a hint of triumph in her voice.

* * *

Standing at his locker exchanging books, John said to Daria, "Please tell me I was hallucinating in art class." 

Resigned, Daria leaned her head against another locker. "I'm afraid not. We're officially Brittany and Kevin's guests at the school dance."

"Maybe we can think of some way out of it."

Walking up to them, Mack MacKenzie said, "Thank you, so very, very much."

Beside him, Jodie said, "We really appreciate it."

Mack grinned at Jodie. "A whole night without keeping an eye on Kevin and Brittany."

Jodie smiled back. "I don't know what we'll do."

"I'm sure we'll think of something."

Mack quickly hugged Jodie with one arm and said to Daria and John, "We owe you."

John smiled half-heartedly and said, "Um, no problem."

* * *

At the dinner table with the rest of the family, Quinn explained, "So I said maybe we should get a velvet rope and hire a bouncer to keep out, you know, the undesirable elements, like, um…you know, the people that cause trouble by dumping blood on girls and stuff." 

"Heading up the dance committee is a big responsibility, Quinn," Helen said.

Beginning to slice open a baked potato, Jake mused, "I remember dances in high school…" His voice suddenly became a shout as he added, "…and the humiliation! My one date stood me up for Mr. Big Stuff On Campus. But, I went anyway! Boy, did that show her, the little…"

Helen quickly asked, "Daria, are you and John going to the dance?"

Quinn nervously looked on as Daria said, "Um, yeah. We're…double dating with Kevin and Brittany."

Jake suddenly looked up. "Kevin? I haven't seen him in ages. How's he doing?"

John said, "Just as sharp as ever."

"It's nice to see you participating more with your fellow students. I'm proud of you for making a step like this without prompting," Helen said.

When the doorbell rang, Jake said, "Damn charities! Don't they know it's dinner time?"

Quinn stood and said, "Daddy, it should be the Fashion Club."

"Oh, in that case, we better set out some more plates," Jake said, trying to be helpful.

Daria said, "Don't bother. Their mutual brilliance is enough to sustain them photosynthetically."

Quinn rolled her eyes at Daria and said, "Anyway, please remain seated. We'll be in my room planning the dance."

After Quinn left, Jake asked, "We never see her friends. Are they real?"

Faintly Sandi could be heard saying, "Thanks Quinn, for keeping your sister and that guy that lives with you busy so we can get to your room without incident."

Tiffany said, "Yeah, they are so…weird."

After a nervous laugh, Stacy said, "But, it's because of them that Ted and I got together."

Sandi reprimanded, "Stacy."

"Sorry," Stacy meekly replied.

John said to Jake, "They're real; we only wish somebody made them up."

* * *

Studying a fold-out page of a book, John sat on his bed and said, "Why do you have to already be a famous artist before someone will let you use their walls as a giant canvas?" 

Beside him and looking at the same image of the Sistine Chapel ceiling on the page, Daria said, "Any other guy your age looking at a fold-out would be doing something I…um…"

John kissed her cheek and said, "Not with your parents downstairs…"

She blushed and said, "Damn. Did I really start to say that?"

"Considering that this has more nudes than your average, uh, magazine, and how close we are…"

"That's not helping."

"How about picturing Summer crouched over a toilet, ralphing from morning sickness? Very loudly."

Daria lightly chuckled and hugged his arm. "Okay, that helped to spoil the moment. Thanks."

Folding the page back and closing the book, John laid his cheek against hers. _I so wish we didn't have to spoil the moment._

Daria said, "Somewhere, Nietzsche's ghost is laughing his ass off while we try to figure out how escorting Kevin and Brittany will make us stronger."

"We could just let them wander away on their own."

"I don't think Brittany's going to let that happen. In the locker room, she hinted about keeping an eye on Kevin."

"I wonder what he did this time?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"On second thought, scratch that."

"If Jodie and Mack weren't so relieved…"

"We wouldn't get within a mile of that dance."

Daria noticed rapid motion in the hallway through the partially open door. "Hmm. Looks like the Dance Fashion Committee adjourned early."

John looked over in time to see Quinn standing, forlorn, in the hall. "They couldn't have gotten past coordinating their shoes with the velvet-covered ropes."

Quinn paused momentarily to look toward John's room before going back to hers.

Daria said, "Looks like trouble in Fashionland."

"Those velvet ropes will get you every time."

* * *

After school the next day, Quinn quickly closed the Fashion Club's advice booth and hurried after John and Daria. She held out a stack of cash and said, "Hey, can I get a ride home with you?" 

Daria slowed and said, "You want a ride in the Big Blue Bomb?"

John saw the money and said, "And she's willing to bribe us for the privilege."

Trying to convince them to speed up, Quinn said, "I want to talk to you, okay?"

"I'm game," John said. "My curiosity's getting to me."

"Well then, anything for my dear sister," Daria said.

Minutes later, Daria started Trent's old car and pulled away from the school parking lot. She looked in the rearview mirror and said, "Okay Quinn. Spill."

"I need a dance committee," Quinn said.

John said, "So, the Fashion Club's departure last night…"

Quinn said, "I'd rather not talk about it. A hundred dollars, all yours."

Carefully trying to concentrate on the road, Daria said, "The school paper is pushing my extracurricular tolerance to the limit."

"Daria, please?" Quinn pleaded.

Resting his head back against the seat, John asked, "What's the budget for food, music and decorations?"

Daria took her eyes off the road to look at him. "What?"

Quinn said, "A thousand dollars…minus this discretionary fund."

John smiled. "That'll buy a lot of paint."

"You're not." Daria said. Seeing his grin just before turning back to face the road, she moaned, "You are."

Quinn said, "What?"

"Be prepared for grand scale decorations," Daria explained.

"Great!" Seeing Pizza Prince ahead, Quinn said, "Can you drop me off here?"

"Okay." Daria said and drove into the parking lot.

Quinn got out and turned, handing John a clipboard. "Oh yeah, here's the other stuff you'll need to take care of. Thanks, bye."

After her sister had entered the eatery, Daria said, "You can't spend all that on paint. You will need bread and circuses to keep the unruly masses at bay."

John sat up and said, "I'm sure Mystik Spiral could use a gig."

"What about food?"

He pulled out a twenty. "Eh, buy some chips and dip." He thought a moment and pulled out a second bill. "And some soda."

"What about the rest of that list?"

John tossed the clipboard over his shoulder to the back floorboard. "What list?"

* * *

Daria leaned back on a sofa with her sock-covered feet propped on the coffee table, watching television. On the screen, a nervous woman shook with fear while looking at a toilet. An announcer's voiceover said, "What deadly new diseases can you pick up by sitting down? Toilet seat terror! Next, on _Sick, Sad World._" 

Stirring a pot of something that Daria hoped would be edible for dinner, Jake called out, "Hey, Kiddo, where's John?"

She turned to lean over the sofa back. "Up in his room."

"You, uh, haven't had a fight or anything, have you?"

"No, Dad, inspiration took over his brain, like when I'm seriously writing. He won't even notice me in the room."

"Know anything about the big project, or is it a surprise?"

"I've got a feeling it's going to a big surprise for the whole school, and I mean big in more ways than one."

Jake carefully asked, "It's not another poster contest, is it?"

"No."

"Whew."

"He's decorating the gym for the school dance."

"Oh, streamers and banners and stuff like that?" Jake said as he lifted his spoon from the pot.

"This is John we're talking about."

"Um…"

"And his creative inspiration has gone into overdrive."

"Um…."

"With a large budget."

"Ulp." Jake stopped, frozen, with the spoon just below his lips.

Concerned, Daria asked, "Dad, is dinner supposed to be that shade of purple?"

* * *

Sitting on a duct tape-patched beanbag chair in Trent's apartment, Jesse complained, "Ah man, Lawndale High?" 

"It's a paying gig," John said. "Better than what you've been getting from McGrundy's Pub, too."

Perched on a barstool "borrowed" from McGrundy's, Nick said, "We'll still have time to pack up and do a late set at the Zon. I like it."

"Cool," Trent said, standing in what passed for his kitchen. "We're there."

Max, perched on a milk crate, said, "I remember old General Li. Better stash our weed before we head over."

"That would be a good idea," John said.

"No kidding," Max agreed. "She can smell it faster than a bloodhound."

Nick asked, "What are you doing for music between our sets?"

"I figure a stack of tapes and a loud boombox will work."

"You ought to get a real DJ."

"Angling for a little extra work?"

"Now that you mention it," Nick became serious and a little nervous, "I have a child support payment coming up."

"Deal."

Trent said, "You're starting to sound like a businessman, Johnny."

After a light-hearted laugh, John said, "Actually, sounding more like a Morgendorffer."

Max said, "That girl's got you whipped, man."

John turned away for a second to keep from saying something rash. He turned back and said, "Oh yeah, can I get a favor from you, Max?"

* * *

"What in the world?" Helen asked as she approached home. The Tank had just pulled away from the driveway with the bald member of Trent's band driving. Jake's car and the rustbucket that John and Daria were borrowing from Trent were parked on the lawn, while John stood in the open garage next to a pile of cloth rolls. 

"Helen?" her boss's voice came from the cell phone in her hand.

She replied, "Oh, sorry Eric. Just a little surprised by something."

"Is it something serious?"

"Oh no, just…odd."

"Good. We don't need anything distracting you from this case."

She pulled into the driveway and stopped. "Of course, Eric. No need to worry. Bye."

John walked over as Helen prepared to get out of her SUV. He said, "I hope you don't mind, they'll only be there for a few days."

She asked, "John, what on the Earth is all that fabric for?"

"Decorations to hang from the ceiling for the school dance."

Helen folded her arms and said, "Somehow, I don't think you're making banners that say, 'Go Lawndale.'"

"That would be pretty lame."

"Uh-huh." Her patient stare made it clear she wanted answers.

"Let me keep a little surprise. I'm combining these to make a large mural for the gym ceiling…based on some classical works."

"Okay…but the surprise better not be unpleasant."

"I'm not planning on it. Oh, one more thing. Can you park on the grass for a few days? The driveway is the largest flat area around for me to work on."

Helen rubbed her eyes. "I'm glad we don't have a homeowner's association."

* * *

Hearing Daria say, "Abandon all entrance to those that hope here," Quinn gently opened to door and replied, "Um, yeah, whatever. Are you and your boyfriend trying to out-weird each other or something?" 

Sitting on her bed, Daria lowered her book and said, "Is John still down at the driveway?"

"Well, duh. He's making a public spectacle of his weirdness."

"He's only doing what you paid him to do."

"I didn't pay him anything, lately."

"True, you were more of the middle-manager passing on the school's money."

Quinn staggered back. "That's for the dance!"

"Yep."

"I've got to talk to him."

"I wouldn't get within splash distance right now, unless you want paint on those clothes."

"But Daria, have you seen what he's doing?"

"No, but I know that look in his eye. He has inspiration and you gave him the means."

"But Daria, this is a school dance. Everyone is going to see it and everyone knows I'm head of the dance committee."

Daria shrugged. "Then, you should've been a little more involved in planning. If you're in charge and don't supervise, don't expect to get what you want, expect to get what the people doing the work want."

"Daria, something like this could drive even more people to Sandi's party!"

"Sandi's party?"

Quinn walked over to sit on the bed. "Sandi's throwing a snit because I didn't like her decoration ideas."

"Was that when your committee abandoned you?"

"Yes. Anyway, now she's planning a big party at her house the same night as the dance. Football on a big screen TV, new jets in the hot tub, and so on."

"New jets in the Jacuzzi? That should make Brittany jealous. But don't worry, John and I are still stuck double dating with them to the dance. The gym won't be completely empty."

"But, what am I going to do? Sandi's party could ruin the dance."

Daria set her book aside and rose, beckoning Quinn to follow. They crossed the hall and walked through Quinn's room to a window overlooking the driveway. Daria pointed down at John, still eagerly working and totally focused on the unrolled fabric. "Don't you think that's going to generate a lot of curiosity when John takes them to school?"

"I guess so."

"Play up the mystery so that people will show up just to see what's going on."

"But what then? I don't want them to run away because of some really weird decorations."

"People are lazy and tend to stay put once they arrive. After they start dancing or doing all the stuff that Ms. Li has the cameras installed to catch, they're not going to notice what the gym looks like. Curiosity about John's artwork will get them in the door. I'm sure you can use your popularity to keep them there."

Quinn slowly turned and said, "You seem awfully eager for people to see John's work."

"He's very excited and is putting a lot of effort into it."

Quinn looked back down at John as she recognized familiar motivations. "Because he wants people to see and like his art, just like you want people to like your writing."

"Um, yeah, something like that."

Quinn turned back to Daria. "Deal. I'll try to get as many people as I can in to see his stuff. But please tell me, it's not really going to be too weird, is it?"

"Define, 'too weird'."

* * *

Rubbing a sore shoulder, John grumbled as he exited the gym, "Nothing like using PE as an extra football practice…with the non-team students as tackling dummies." 

Kevin jogged up beside John. "Hey, um, you heard about Sandi's party Saturday?"

Dreading the headache that inevitably comes from any extended conversation with the QB, John said, "You mean the one that's on at the same time as the dance?"

"Yeah. Look, I heard that they'll have the Green Bay/Denver game on big screen. Cool, huh?"

John inwardly smiled. "Sounds like you'll have a wonderful time there with Brittany."

"And you and Daria, right?" Kevin asked, expectantly. When John didn't answer immediately, he added, "If you two ain't going to Sandi's, Brittany will go all freakazoid on me when I bring it up."

"That sounds like something for you and Brittany to work out."

"But, Brittany's gonna wanna dance if we go to the dance!"

Slowly, John said, "Isn't that the idea of going?"

"Ah man, you mean you and Daria's gonna dance?"

Dance? John quickly changed the subject, saying, "Um, look. I'm doing the decorations for the gym. I kinda have to show up."

"I thought Quinn was doing that."

"Sub-contractor."

"Ah, gotcha. Like the guys my dad hires for stuff. He's a contractor, you know."

"I think you've mentioned that before."

"Oh, yeah. So, are you painting a bunch of Lawndale Lions? That'll be cool."

"No lions, sorry."

"Then, what?"

"It's a surprise."

"What kind of surprise?"

"Can't tell you."

"Aw, man. When can you tell me?"

"Saturday, at the dance."

Kevin pumped his fist, "Yeah, Saturday!"

_Dammit! _John thought of the lost opportunity.

* * *

Jodie entered the school paper workroom and saw John sprawled, face-first, on a table. Nearby, Daria typed on a computer keyboard, apparently unconcerned. Jodie asked, "Is he all right?" 

Daria stopped and turned. "Just catching some sleep."

"Busy with the dance decorations?"

"Just a little, tiny bit."

"The whole school's talking about some big surprise for the dance."

"It's going to be that."

"We're not going to regret this, are we?"

"Let's put it this way, it's something you could hang in a chapel, but with a few stylistic differences."

"Knowing you two, that's supposed to make me feel better?"

John mumbled and shifted slightly while a smile formed on his face. Jodie said, "Looks like a good dream."

"Almost like one of the cats dreaming about hunting," Daria said while also watching.

_Awestruck by Daria's green, strapless evening gown, John straightened his evening jacket and gently took her hand. "Dance?" _

Silent, Daria's shadowy smile said, "Yes," as she stepped closer, resting her other hand on his shoulder.

With a hand on the side of her waist, John stepped forward to start the waltz.

"I wonder what he's dreaming about," Jodie mused.

"He's a guy and he's smiling; what do you think?"

"Either a rare steak or you."

"I hope the two images are not interchangeable."

* * *

"Man, what are all those kids doing, staring at us?" Max said, holding one end of a cloth roll while John carried the other. Behind them, Nick and Trent carried a second roll. 

As they went inside the gym on Friday afternoon, John said, "Quinn's been building up the mystery about what I painted. Give her a PR job, and damn, she's good."

"She's Daria's cute little sister, right?"

John sharply responded, "Touch her, and you really will be a criminale. Underage."

Max yelled back to Nick, "You owe me five!"

"Dammit!" Nick yelled in return.

"Okay, what was that about?" John asked.

Grinning, Trent said, "You've turned into a big brother, Johnny."

"What?"

"You're looking out for her like a little sister."

Coming up belatedly with a box of touchup paints, Jesse said, "Hey! That could make a cool song."

"I was…oh, never mind," John said. He stopped near a wall and started to lower the roll, saying, "This is good."

After everyone deposited their burdens, Trent said, "Man, this place hasn't changed."

Max said, "Yeah, still smells like Coach Gibson's rank cologne."

Nick asked, "Where are we setting up?"

John pointed to one wall. "We'll set up the portable deck under the scoreboard. Don't worry, it'll be covered."

"Will there be enough room for the band and the DJ gear?"

"Plenty. It's big enough for the entire football team to jump up and down on."

Trent asked, "Want us to play anything special? You know, for you and Daria?"

John shrugged. "Don't know. We'll probably spend the night just hanging out."

"Mmm." Trent replied.

* * *

Quinn softly knocked on her sister's door and entered after Daria said, "Please ignore the man behind the curtain." 

"Hi, Daria. That whole mystery thing was a good idea, thanks."

Daria looked up from her book and said, "You're welcome."

"Everybody's waiting to see what John's doing to the gym."

"If they're not careful, they might learn something."

Suddenly worried, Quinn said, "He's not doing something educational, is he?"

"At Lawndale High?"

"Whew."

"At least, nothing obviously educational."

"Daria."

"Most of the students will totally miss it."

"Good. So, um, why aren't you helping John set things up?"

"He has Mystik Spiral helping. Stuff involving the school's maintenance lift and ladders. You know that it's bad to combine me with ladders."

"Um, good point. So, any special plans for tomorrow? Dinner? Dancing? Romance?"

"I promised to help with the final, ground level stuff tomorrow. We'll probably have pizza delivered for dinner, and dancing…have you totally lost your mind?"

"Daria, it's a dance. What else are you supposed to do?"

"I'm planning on drinking punch and watching people make fools of themselves."

"Come on, Daria. You have to at least try. It's fun."

"Do you really want to see me flailing and shaking like some kind of out-of-control robot?"

Quinn shivered and said, "Okay, that was a visual I didn't need."

"I rest my case."

"But you won't have to do that if you slow dance with John."

"I was under the impression that you didn't slow dance."

"Not until after the fifth date. I think you and John are way past that, so you're safe."

"Quinn."

"Think about it. Please?"

Daria glared.

"Please?"

Daria continued glaring.

"Okay. Just…thought I'd make the suggestion. Bye."

Quinn closed the door and Daria shrugged, picking up her book. About a page into her reading, she started to hum _By the Beautiful Blue Danube._

* * *

"Oh, Daria, I didn't know you were helping, too," Mr. O'Neill said as she and John approached the gym. 

She whispered to John, "What's he doing here?"

"You don't think Li trusted me with a key, did you? He's the faculty sponsor."

"This is going to cost you." In a normal voice, she said, "Hi, Mr. O'Neill."

"Did John pass on my idea about a dramatic reading or two?"

Daria walked past him and said, "I'm sure a good Melody Powers story would liven things up."

Mr. O'Neill fell back against the door frame and stammered, "M…maybe we can skip the readings. You have a good DJ, right?"

Inside, Daria looked up at the panels stretched across the ceiling to form one mural, and another set of panels hanging on the far wall, behind the portable stage. "Mixing Michelangelo, Picasso and Pollack, not too many people could pull that off."

"Well, using the Pollack-style elements between the scenes instead of faux masonry did speed things up a bit."

"And the scenes in Picasso's style to create a Sistine Chapel for the late twentieth century." She looked up and added, "Too bad you didn't have time for more detail."

"More detail would probably get me expelled," John explained.

"Not that kind of detail."

Daria turned her attention to the _Last Judgment_ panels on the wall. After a second look, she chuckled at the various celebrity faces gracing the damned on their way to Hell. "A little social and political commentary?"

"Could you resist?"

"No."

"Is that an angel carrying a pitchfork that's waiting for them in Hell?"

"I thought it made a nice touch."

"There's something vaguely disturbing about her. Like, she's trying to tell me something I don't want to hear."

"Eep!" Mr. O'Neill's shrill expression surprised Daria and John.

John said, "Is something wrong?"

"Don't you think that's a little…shocking?"

"Hey, the end of the millennium's coming up, why not be prepared?"

"You're not stocking up on canned food like Mr. DeMartino, are you?"

"That was a bit of information I don't think I wanted to know," Daria said.

"Oh! Oh, sorry. Forget I mentioned it."

* * *

Tired and sweaty, Daria slumped against a wall and slid down to sit. "It's a good thing I like you." 

Finishing up the last of the edging around the bandstand, John said, "I'd say so. Thanks for helping."

"Was it worth it?"

John came over and sat beside her. "Yeah. Even if nobody notices but us, I've still got the photos."

"What about the real thing?"

"Um…storage is going to be a problem."

"It all went in the garage before. It's not like Mom and Dad ever use it for their cars, anyway."

"I wasn't sure."

"All the garage is going to do is collect stuff. You might as well stake out a claim while you can."

"I like it."

Daria looked at her watch. "If we leave for home now, we can both get showers before Kevin and Brittany show up."

"I'll remind Mr. O'Neill to let the band in for setup. Ugh, I'm not looking forward to riding in Kevin's Jeep."

"You think I am?"

"How do we keep getting into these situations?"

Daria sighed. "Because we're not the cold-hearted bastards we pretend to be."

* * *

Jake opened the front door, but Quinn rushed in front. "Bye, Daddy, my date's…" 

"Hi!" Brittany said

Quinn stepped back. "Brittany?"

While Jake looked on, completely confused, Brittany said, "Are John and Daria ready?"

"Oh yeah, you're double dating." Quinn turned to her father and said, "John and Daria's ride."

"Oh." When he prepared to yell for them, he saw John and Daria coming down the stairs. "Hey, your ride is here."

"Thanks, Dad," Daria said. "Hi, Brittany."

"Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

"I can hardly wait."

* * *

Walking behind Kevin and Brittany, going toward the gym, Daria was wide-eyed as she quietly said to John, "I'll never complain about Dad's driving again." 

Equally shell-shocked, John said, "And Jake's Lexus has working seat belts. We've got to find an excuse to walk home."

The music coming from within told Daria and John that Nick was on duty as DJ, leaving John to say, "I hope Trent's awake."

"Will it make much of a difference?"

"If Trent's asleep on the guitar, Jesse will sing."

"Like I asked…"

"Sure, if death by hammer to the head is different from death by rock to the head."

"Whoa, that's like, some really freaky cool stuff," Kevin said after they passed into the gym.

"Wow," Brittany said, staring up. "That's like, really big. How'd you do that on the ceiling?"

"Anti-gravity boots," John said, with a calm, straight face.

With an odd look of inward concentration, Brittany asked, "Really?"

"Nah, I used the maintenance lift."

"Ohhh."

Kevin said, "Be back, gotta go to the can," and rushed away.

Several seconds later, Brittany said, "Hey, the restrooms are the other way!" and followed after him.

Daria briefly glanced at Brittany pushing through a crowd and said, "I'm not following."

John said, "We can watch from here."

Quinn appeared with two boys at her side. Daria exhaled tiredly and said, "And now we have Quinn's version of a double date."

One of the boys said, "Cool decorations, Quinn."

Quinn waved at John and said, "The secret's in knowing who to get to do the job right."

Daria leaned her head over onto John's shoulder and sarcastically said, "Little Quinn's growing up and taking managerial credit. Isn't that sweet?"

The second boy gave John a thumb's up sign. "Dude!"

"At least she's acknowledging the little people," John said while nodding in recognition.

"Come to think of it, she has grown up." Daria noted, "A year ago, she'd have taken all the credit without a second thought."

"Dammit, who's been a good influence?"

"We have met the influence peddlers, and they are us."

John laughed and said, "How are we going to maintain our reputations that way?"

"That's interesting," Daria said, pointing to Stacy and Ted at the entrance. "Another Fashion Club defection."

* * *

Trent coughed and spoke into a microphone. "Hey, we're Mystik Spiral, but we might call ourselves something else later. It's um, something, to be here at Lawndale High." 

After a couple test strums on his guitar, he nodded to the band and counted, "One, two…" before starting to play and sing, "You're an angel in black…"

John said, "Hmm, they decided to start with a classic."

"Doesn't Trent realize that Monique doesn't care much for that song?"

"Oh, she's let him know."

"Must not have been very clear."

"No, she was very clear. Trent's just…clueless."

Brittany reappeared with Kevin in tow. "Hi. John, the singer in your brother's band sure looks a lot like you."

"Um…that's my brother."

Kevin said, "Whoa, you mean you have two brothers in the band? Cool."

"Kevin, no…oh, never mind."

Brittany pulled on Kevin's hand. "Kevie, let's dance."

"Aw, babe."

"Come on, Kevin." She beamed at Daria and John. "You too!"

Daria held up a drink cup. "I need to finish this."

"Okay! Don't take too long," Brittany said and pulled Kevin onto the dance floor.

"One humiliating experience postponed," Daria said. "But, you know she's going to keep trying."

John agreed, saying, "Brittany is persistent."

"I just can't see myself gyrating around like that in private, let alone in public."

Moving his arm around Daria's waist, he asked, "Uh…do you think you can tolerate something slower…and closer?"

Daria looked straight down at her feet. "You had to ask."

"If you don't want…"

"I want to, just, not so public."

"I see."

"Plus, I'd have to admit that Quinn was right."

"Quinn?"

"She…planted the idea."

"You know, she seems to really want us to be together. Kind of weird when you consider Quinn's ability to juggle two dates a night."

Daria placed her hand around John's waist. "I think it comforts her. Quinn's afraid to get too close to somebody. She hides it behind her popularity, the way I used to hide behind my sarcasm and sharp remarks."

"But, you let me get close."

Daria gently smiled. "That's what comforts her. Quinn knows that if I can, so can she."

* * *

Bouncing and happy, Brittany came back to John and Daria. "Oh, you're not done with that drink yet?" 

Daria took a sip and said, "Sorry, Brittany. I don't want to rush it."

"But, you're missing all the fun."

John said, "Where's Kevin?"

"He's…" Brittany turned around and saw that Kevin was still on the dance floor. She stormed toward him, warning, "Kevin, you better not be eyeing Zoe again!"

"Thanks for the save," Daria told John.

"Any time."

"We could have a seat instead of standing around."

"Hmm. Good thinking."

* * *

Slightly winded but clearly having a good time after Mystik Spiral finished the first set, Jodie and Mack left the dance floor and walked over to the bleachers where John and Daria sat. Jodie said, "We're having a great time tonight. Thanks, you guys." 

"Almost nonstop dancing. I could get used to this," Mack said. "Not having to keep an eye on Kevin and Brittany is great."

John said, "You know, we really could just turn them loose. After all, this is Lawndale. How much real damage can they do?"

Abruptly worried, Mack asked, "You didn't really say that, did you?"

"It's a risk we'll have to take," Daria answered. "I think we're done chaperoning the two lovebirds, and we're certainly not riding home with them."

Before Jodie could say something, John said, "You can't watch over them forever. There comes a time when you have to let them go out on their own."

Daria swung her booted foot. "Sometimes, they need a little nudge of encouragement."

Jodie held Mack's arm and said, "You two are really sick, you know that?"

John and Daria looked at each other and nodded. "Yes."

Jodie started to lead Mack away. "Thanks. We'll see you later."

Mack looked over his shoulder. "But, not tonight."

* * *

Spotting Upchuck, John said, "At least he didn't hold a grudge." 

"Hmm?"

"Upchuck asked about playing DJ, but I'd already recruited Nick. I didn't think that they'd work well together."

Involuntarily flinching after watching one of the cheerleaders slap Upchuck, Daria said, "But, it would've kept him out of circulation."

"Damn, I should've thought of that."

* * *

Mystik Spiral was almost ready for their second set when Quinn said to Daria, "At least you haven't run away." 

"Watching our fellow students has been amusing," she replied.

The door opened to allow Jamie, Jeffy and Joey to enter, along with a puff of wind-carried, early season snow.

Jeffy said, "Hi, Quinn."

"Hey, Quinn," Jamie said.

"Cool dance, Quinn," Joey added.

Miffed, Quinn said, "I thought you three went to Sandi's party."

"It, um…" Jamie started to answer.

"…sucked," Joey finished.

Jeffy said for emphasis, "Big time."

One of the boys that had arrived with Quinn loudly said, "Hey everybody, it's snowing outside. First snow of the year!"

The word spread quickly through the mob and the students migrated from the gym and out into the parking lot, carrying Quinn and company along with them.

Almost alone on the floor, Kevin said, "Snow! We gotta check it out." He tugged on Brittany's hand to coax her along. "You love snuggling together in the cold."

"Oh, Kevie!" Brittany said with pleasure and followed him closely.

Trent looked up and said, "Hey, what happened?"

Max said, "We didn't suck that bad."

John stood up and turned to Daria. "While we have a little privacy…"

She stood and took his hand. "You're…hard to resist."

They walked hand in hand to the bandstand and John asked, "Trent, can you play something slow?"

Trent playfully laughed and said, "We have one thing." He nodded off a rhythm count and they started on a slower, softer tune, but that still had a bit of the band's grunge feel.

The teen lovers embraced and started an uncertain, halted dance. To them, they glided smoothly along the floor in beat to the music in a magical moment of joy that seemed perfect.

Quickly tired of the chill air outside, Quinn stepped back into the gym with all five boys following close behind. Spotting her sister and John, she stopped and happily sighed.

Corey stepped over next to Quinn and said, "Wanna slow dance?"

Joey approached from her other side. "How about me?"

Jeffy nudged Corey out of the way and said, "No, me."

Jamie brusquely pushed Joey and said, "Me, Quinn."

Joey pushed him back, "Back off, monkey breath."

"You back off. I'm going to dance with Quinn."

Corey crossed in front of Quinn to face Jamie. "I asked first."

Jeffy pulled him back. "So what?"

The fifth boy backed away and went outside. "Get me out of here."

Quinn started to smile, but noticed John and Daria, still dancing. The smile faded and she said, "Guys…"

Jamie pushed Jeffy. "Don't worry, Quinn."

"Guys…"

Corey shouldered Jamie out of the way. "Don't pay attention to these losers."

"Guys…"

Joey got in front of Corey, who started to pull back his arm. Quinn raised her hand and put it in front of his. Stern, but quiet, she said, "No fighting."

"Huh?" the boys said together.

"No fighting."

The commotion had attracted the attention of more students, who entered the gym to watch. Their attention soon shifted to the dancing couple and they started to spread out, silently watching.

Still in a world defined only by the soft warmth of Daria in his embrace and the music, John continued the dance and savored the relaxed pleasure on Daria's face.

Another layer of defense set aside, Daria felt herself closer than ever to John and emotionally bonded tighter than before. Hearing the music draw to a close, she kissed him and said, "Thank you."

Wishing to say the same, John returned the kiss. But, before he could speak, they were enveloped in a bright flash and Ted said, "Wow. That's going to make a great couple shot for the yearbook."

Still temporarily blinded by the flash, the couple didn't realize at first that the clapping they heard was for them.

* * *

Just inside the front door, Daria and John took a moment to warm up after the walk home. Rubbing her arms, Daria crossed the dimly-lit living room to the entertainment center. After a short search of CDs, she put one on and set the track. As _By the Beautiful Blue Danube_ started playing, she and John wordlessly moved into another embrace to dance. 

Lying in bed and listening for the children to return home, Helen's interest was raised by the music. Pulling a robe over her nightgown, she tiptoed down the stairs to investigate.

Their motion carried Daria and John to the large, corner window of the room. Looking out at the falling snow, Daria whispered, "Oh well, I can't use, 'When it's a cold day in Hell,' anymore."

John whispered back, "And it's not the end of the world."

Seeing the dancers, Helen politely turned and went back upstairs.

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading. 

Dialog from Daria _Dance Party_ by Peggy Nicoll

September-October 2006


	22. Valuable Experiences

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the twenty-second John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Valuable Experiences**

Walking down a corridor of Lawndale High, Daria said, "I don't think it'll work. Even if you can convince them to let you borrow a mosquito truck, they're not going to let you run paint through the sprayer."

John sighed and said, "Some people just don't understand artistic vision."

Mr. O'Neill rushed up, grinning wildly as he said, "Daria! I have great news!"

She said, "You decided to see the wonders of Europe on ten dollars a day…starting tomorrow."

"Oh, how I wish. No! Your essay placed second in the 'Spend a Day with Val' contest!"

"Essay?"

"_The Angst Girl_."

John teasingly said, "Entering contests? You're holding out on me."

Daria gave him a fast glare and asked Mr. O'Neill. "How did it get entered?"

"I sent it in for you!"

Rubbing her temples, Daria said, "Too late to worry about that. But, I'll have something published; it's a small consolation."

"Um…sorry Daria, no. You're going to get a plaque."

"They're not even going to publish the damn essay?"

"But, you also get a 2-year subscription to _Val_!"

Daria irritably asked, "What am I going to do with that? I don't have a pet bird. Out of curiosity, does the winner at least get published?"

"No, but they get to spend an entire day with Val. I'm sorry you missed out."

"The subscription is sounding better."

"Come with me, Daria. One of the staffers wants to talk to you on the phone."

"Be still, oh my beating heart."

Since he hadn't been told to stay away, John shrugged and followed Daria and Mr. O'Neill into the teacher's lounge. _I'm surprised Mr. DeMartino doesn't have a picture of Kevin on a dartboard._

Mr. O'Neill dialed the phone and waited a couple seconds before getting an answer. "Good afternoon, this is Timothy O'Neill, calling back. Ms. Cawthon, please…Hello! Yes, this is Daria's writing mentor."

Daria closed her eyes and clenched her teeth at the comment. John carefully placed one hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her.

Mr. O'Neill said, "She right here…oh, yes." He presented the telephone to Daria. "Ms. Cawthon, one of Val's staff writers, would like to talk to you."

She took the phone and said, "Hello."

"Hi, I'm Debbie. How are you?"

"Fine."

"I bet you're excited."

"No."

"Oh. Must be because you're used to this sort of thing."

"Not really."

"A woman of few words, I see. Val's going to spend the day with the first-place finisher, a girl in…um, something Valley, Illinois. Never heard of it. At the same time, I'll be at Lawndale High to present a plaque to you, in front of the entire student body."

"Can't you just mail it?"

Debbie chuckled and said, "Sorry, I have to hand deliver it."

"Oh well, I suppose I can't stop you."

"I'll see you in a couple days. Bye."

"Bye."

* * *

Holding up a copy of _Val_ folded at the spine, John said, "Eight." 

Disgusted, Daria looked up from the copy Mr. O'Neill had shoved into her hands earlier. "Eight?"

"That's how many times Val's name appears on this page."

"No lack of self-esteem there. No wonder Mr. O'Neill likes her. I'm still disturbed that he entered my essay without asking."

John said, "What I find more disturbing is that Mr. O'Neill must read this rag. How else would he even know about the contest?"

"John, that is creepy on so many different levels."

He pointed to an article on the page. "So is 'chili con cheesepuff'. We don't let your dad see this."

"Agreed." Daria's eyes suddenly brightened. "There is one good thing about the whole mess."

"Oh?"

"I should be able to cash in for some bonus extracurricular activity credit with Mom."

"Have I ever told you that I like the way you think?"

* * *

"Are you sure?" Quinn asked Daria as the family ate dinner. 

"I think you'll get a lot more out of the subscription than I will."

"I'm so proud of you, Daria," Helen said.

Jake said, "Yeah kiddo, me too."

Helen said, "I don't remember you sending anything in."

"Oh, Mr. O'Neill took care of that."

"Mr. O'Neill?"

John said, "Guess English teachers know about these kinds of contests and such. Probably have teacher newsletters or something."

"I suppose. Anyway, I'm still so happy. Second place in a national writing contest; wait until I tell Rita."

John leaned over and whispered to Daria, "If this rates gloating to your Aunt Rita, it has to be worth some serious brownie points."

* * *

Daria gasped and arched her neck as John gently nibbled on the base of it. Holding her around the waist, he said, "Congratulations." 

"Careful," she warned, turning within his arms and placing her arms around his neck. "I might have to return the favor."

They kissed, holding each other close to feel the joy of togetherness and the warmth of their bodies. John moved his hands up Daria's back, gently caressing. She sighed and started to kiss his neck and run her fingers through his hair.

Because they were well used to listening, the light tread of someone in the hall broke the moment and they stepped apart, catching their breath as someone knocked on Daria's door.

"Yes?" Daria called.

Quinn asked, "Can I come in?"

"Sure, the door's open."

The younger sister grinned inwardly, recognizing Daria and John's shortness of breath. "That writer person from _Val_ is supposed to be at school for awhile, right?"

"Yes, Quinn."

"Can, um, the Fashion Club get a little time with her? To like, show her the advice booth and stuff."

"It's not like I'm going to be her tour guide or anything. As far as I know, she's going to be bothered by Mr. O'Neill and Ms. Li, interview me, and then give the award. After that, I'm assuming that she'll make a run for it, back to New York."

"It would mean a lot if you could try. Please?"

"What would be my motivation?"

Quinn smoothed down John's mussed hair without a word.

Daria sighed and said, "I'll try, but I can't guarantee anything."

"Thanks." Quinn giggled and left, closing the door quickly behind her.

John caught Daria as she slumped forward and pressed her face against his chest. "Just shoot me."

* * *

"Will Daria Morgendorffer please report to the office," Ms. Li said over the intercom. 

Mrs. Bennett lowered her arm and turned from the blackboard. "Go on, Daria. I hope you have a good interview."

"So much for a quiet exit," Daria muttered.

John pointed his thumb at Jodie. "What did you expect after somebody put it in the school paper?"

"Hey, now I can add 'Award-Winning Writer' next to Daria's column," Jodie explained.

Daria groaned and pushed her way through the door.

"You have an evil streak in you," John said to Jodie.

"I'm only making sure that Daria gets the recognition she deserves, even if she doesn't think so."

"She's going to get even."

"I'm sure she will."

* * *

"Ms. Morgendorffer, come right in," Ms. Li said, holding the door for Daria. 

Stepping slightly wide and keeping an eye on the principal, Daria entered and saw a brunette wearing a trendy, and slightly revealing, version of her mother's usual choice of attire.

The woman stood and offered her hand. "Hi Daria, you can call me Debbie. Nice to meet you."

"Um, hi," Daria answered, with little enthusiasm.

"Oh, this is so exciting," Ms. Li said. "To show Lawndale High in such a positive light. Right, Daria?"

"Sure, exciting."

"Well, I'll just leave you two alone for the interview," Ms. Li said, retreating into her personal office.

Daria looked at the writer and then at the security camera in the front office.

Debbie followed her gaze and said, "Why don't you show me around the school? I'm sure Ms. Li won't mind."

Daria turned and opened the door. "Want to start with the cafeteria? It should be safe now that lunch is over."

Stepping through after the teen and closing the door, Debbie said, "Are you sure? Isn't that when they turn the dogs loose to clean up?"

Daria faintly smiled and said, "Ms. Li would never subject her bomb-sniffing dogs to what the common students eat. Those mutts are fed almost as well as the football players."

"Somehow, I don't think you're a regular reader of _Val_."

"Not really."

"Hmm, this afternoon is getting more interesting for me. It wasn't your idea to submit that essay, was it?"

Daria tilted her head to look at Debbie. "No, and you're not as vapid as the magazine you write for."

"I have student loans up to my navel to pay off, but at least it's work in my field."

"Now that gives me confidence in pursuing a writing career."

"A little reality check. But, it still looks good on a resume."

"Grown up and sold out?"

Debbie rolled her eyes. "There's no way I could've moved back in with my parents." A second later, she stepped forward and stopped in front of Daria. "You're good. But, I need to get some answers out of you instead."

* * *

John found them seated on a small knoll outside of the library that he and Daria often favored. Ms. Cawthon was talking on her cell phone. "Hello? Pssstbt crkkllle ssssst. I can't sschhckk. Breaking up. Bzzxxt. Talk later, bye." Clicking it off, she laughed once and added, "I love these things." 

John said, "Must not be important."

"Only my boss, Val."

Daria said, "Can you teach my mom that trick?"

John asked in mild surprise, "Consorting with the enemy?"

"The enemy is one of us. John, this is Debbie. Debbie, this is John."

She smiled. "So you're the tall, dark, handsome, blue-eyed stranger."

He sat next to Daria. "It's true; you don't get much stranger than me."

Debbie said, "I can see what you two see in each other."

"Speaking of seeing," John said, pointing to four girls walking directly toward them. "You've been spotted by the Fashion Club and they have a target lock."

Daria rubbed her hands. "Look, I promised my sister that I'd see if you were interested in talking to them."

Debbie started counting. "Let's see, the alpha lion, the power behind the throne, the worker and the supporter."

John said, "Damn, you've got them pegged."

Sandi stopped with the rest of the Fashion Club behind her. Quinn carefully raised her hands and shrugged, "Sorry," to Daria.

Sandi asked, "Are you, like, the writer from _Val_?"

Debbie said, "Yes, and you are?"

"Sandi Griffin, President of the Fashion Club."

Debbie stood, and with well-honed dignity, brushed a couple stray blades of grass from her suit. "A pleasure, and who are your companions?"

"Quinn Morgendorffer, Vice-President."

"Hello."

"Stacy Rowe, Secretary."

"How are you?"

"And, Tiffany Blum-Deckler."

"Hi."

Debbie said, "Hi, everyone."

"We're here to show you the best of what Lawndale High has to offer in fashion."

Debbie examined the girl's attire. "Hmm. Hip and bouncy simplicity with an overtone of cute."

"Thanks, and it's not all about us." Quinn explained, "We have our fashion advice booth open after school every day. So, we can pass on our knowledge to others."

"Interesting." Debbie opened her purse and removed a business card, which she handed to Quinn. "My job today is to interview Daria, so I wouldn't have time to do your Fashion Club's activity justice. Why don't you write up what you're doing with the booth and send it to me? We'll see where it goes from there."

Quinn stared at the card. "Write?"

Debbie lightly laughed. "Yes, and you just email it. I'm looking forward to hearing from you, please don't disappoint me."

Sandi said, "Um, sure. We'll write it all up and send it to you. Stacy, did you get that?"

Opening a notepad in a near panic, Stacy said, "I, uh…just a second."

"Stacy…"

Writing fast, she said, "I got it, Sandi."

Checking her watch, Debbie said, "I think we need to get ready for the presentation. Daria, I must get the plaque from my car first, and then I'll meet you backstage in a few minutes." To the Fashion Club she said, "It's been a pleasure, but if you will please excuse us."

"Okay, you're like, excused." Sandi replied, still trying to figure out exactly what had just happened.

Moments later, John was walking with Daria toward the auditorium. "That was pretty slick, how she dealt with the Fashion Club."

"I think I could learn a few things from Debbie."

"Should I be worried?"

Daria glanced to the side at him. "I don't know; should you?"

* * *

"Daria! Ms. Cawthon!" a seriously winded Mr. O'Neill called as the two, plus John, neared the backstage door of the auditorium. He caught up when they stopped and stooped over with his hands on his knees, catching his breath. 

"The person responsible for all this," Daria said to Debbie. "Mr. O'Neill, my English teacher."

"I'm sorry…" Mr. O'Neill said, stopped for a couple breaths, and continued, "…that I couldn't meet you sooner."

"Daria and I have had a fascinating afternoon, no problem."

"I'm…sure. Daria has such a…sharp wit."

"You're not exactly showing us a good example of physical fitness," John said.

"Oh, when I was you age…I…um…" Mr. O'Neill realized who had just spoken. "…uh, couldn't have kept up with you…but I could hold my…own."

"Can we help you?" Debbie asked.

"I wanted…to thank you for coming all this way…to make the presentation to us."

Daria frowned and said, "Us?"

"You know," Debbie said. "It got me out of the office and New York for the day in a company car."

Mr. O'Neill stammered, "Um…"

Slipping into her "reader service" mode, Debbie said, "Thank you for 'encouraging' Daria to submit her essay."

"Well, I try to bring out the best in my students."

"When he's not trying to bring up our lunch," John whispered to Daria.

"There you are, skinny!" Ms. Barch shouted, rounding a corner of the building.

Caught by surprise, Mr. O'Neill said, "Ja…Ms. Barch. I'd like you to meet Ms. Cawthon, from _Val_ magazine."

"_Val_! That exploitive rag!" Ms. Barch said with utter repugnance. "What in the world is she doing here? Bringing her here is almost as bad as when Ms. Li let that modeling agency run amok on campus. If I were principal, you can bet that sorry episode never would've happened!"

"Uh…She's here to present Daria with a writing award."

"Daria?" Ms. Barch focused on the teen. "I though you were above such nonsense. Don't tell me that you've been corrupted by the traitor to the X chromosome!"

"It's a long story," Daria said. "Mr. O'Neill can explain it. But, we need to head inside for the assembly. Maybe, we can discuss this later."

"It's been quite an experience meeting you two, but Daria's right, we need to get ready," Debbie said, making a fast exit with Daria and John.

Once inside the auditorium and with the door closed, Debbie asked, "What a pair of loons. You know, I get the feeling that those two…"

"We don't talk about it," John said. "The very idea…"

"…is too horrible to even think about," Daria said, completing the sentence.

"And I thought my high school was screwed up."

* * *

Just before things started, John went out into the auditorium and found a seat next to Jodie and Mack. Jodie leaned over and said to John, "Daria must hate this part." 

"If it wasn't for the bargaining leverage with her mother…" John said.

Jodie said, "And I thought my folks were bad."

Mack nudged her. "They are."

She nudged back. "Just because you're the only one around here with halfway-normal parents."

"Excuse me? Dad changed my name after seeing a basketball game."

"Mack, in this town," John said, "that's only mildly abnormal."

"Okay, you've got me there."

Ms. Li stood at the podium to address the assembled students. Debbie was a couple paces to her left, and Daria uncomfortably waited slightly behind Debbie.

"I'm surprised Mr. O'Neill isn't up there," Jodie said.

John said, "I'm sure you realize how Ms. Barch feels about magazines like _Val_."

Jodie rolled her eyes and imitated Ms. Barch's voice. "Quisling's Sisters!"

"Daria left Mr. O'Neill to explain to her why he submitted Daria's essay."

Mack cringed in sympathetic agony. "Ouch."

"Students," Ms. Li addressed the crowd. "It always brings me great pleasure when one of our own brings honor and glory to Lawndale High. It's with great excitement that I introduce Ms. Cawthon from _Val_ magazine."

Debbie traded places with Ms. Li behind the podium. "Hi, everybody. I've had a great time here at Lawndale High."

The students gave a half-hearted cheer.

"On behalf of the staff of _Val_, it's with pleasure that I present this plaque to Daria Morgendorffer, for her outstanding writing skills in placing second in our 'Spend a Day with Val' contest."

Daria stepped up to the podium; those that knew her could see the slight hesitation. "Thanks. All of this was really a surprise."

Mack asked John, "Can you tell us how Daria plans to snuff out Mr. O'Neill?"

"It looks like Ms. Barch might be doing the job as we speak."

Mack shivered at the idea. "Remind me to never tick-off Daria."

Debbie took her cell phone from a pocket. "Val wanted to say a few words on this occasion. Just a moment while I ring her up."

After several seconds, she said, "Val, it's Deb. Daria Morgendorffer's right beside me and the school's waiting to hear from you."

Debbie placed the phone close to the podium mike and stepped back. Val's voice sounded distant as she said, "Hey, Daria! This is Val and I'm so jiggy with talking to you this afternoon. I've spent a great day with my new pal, Kay, and she's writing about her experiences. I bet you two would hit it off. Maybe both of you could come to New York and spend…" Val paused and suddenly screamed, "…He did not leave me! I dumped that has-been loser! I don't care what he wants to do with that slut Gwynnie! That little bitch…"

Debbie dove for the phone and snatched it away, covering it with her hand. Mixed gasps and chuckles rose from the audience.

"Ms. Cawthon!" Ms. Li demanded as she strode back to the podium. "What is the meaning of this?"

Debbie gulped. "I'm sorry, Ms. Li. Val can be temperamental at times."

"Sound more like plain mental," Daria said. More chuckles came from the other students.

Ms. Li held out her hand. "I want a word with her."

Random screaming noises, muffled by Debbie's hand, continued to flow from the cell phone. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Don't argue with me, I know how those creative types like to play at being high strung. Give me that phone."

Debbie presented the device. "It's your ear."

"Ms. Val," Li started to say. Her eyes bugged open wide and she moved the phone away from her ear as more indistinct ranting sounded. She passed the phone back to Debbie and then stepped to the podium.

After clearing her throat, Ms. Li rapidly said, "Thank you, um, thank you, Ms. Cawthon and congratulations, Daria Morgendorffer. Assembly dismissed."

* * *

Looking at the plaque, John said, "I didn't know it was possible to do a pink anodized coating on brass." 

Seated on the other side of the booth, Debbie said, "Never underestimate how tasteless you can be if you throw enough money at something."

Holding a slice of pizza, Daria said, "From what she sounded like, I think the plaque was a better deal than an actual visit from Val."

"It is." Debbie sighed. "If I can keep from killing her for another year and a half, I'll have all my student loans paid off. I keep telling myself that."

"I don't know if I can take much more encouragement," Daria said.

"Life's sometimes like high school; you have to put up with a lot of annoyance to get where you want to go. But, it's better than the alternative of not trying to go anywhere. You end up with a lot more annoyance."

"And I thought I was cynical."

"You are, it just needs to mature a bit more."

"Too bad Val's tantrum made everyone forget why we were there," John said. He smiled down at the award. "Well, almost everyone."

"I like the way you two are together. A lot better than watching Val and her boy toy."

Daria said, "Let me guess; pretty to look at, but so air-headed that you need to keep him away from sharp objects."

Debbie coughed with laughter. "Yeah, he was eye-candy looking for easy influence. I've seen tofu with more personality."

"Hey Val Lady, can you do that ventroquil..trillo…nitrill…um, throwing your voice thing again? It was really cool." Kevin said as he stepped up to the table with Brittany.

John rolled his eyes. "Speaking of tofu…"

* * *

Helen gently nudged the award and stepped back to see if it was level. Unhappy, she nudged it again and rechecked, which brought a smile. "Now everyone can see your accomplishment, Daria." 

"Wow, that's the same shade as my diarrhea medicine," Jake said.

Daria rubbed her temples. "I'll think of that always, Dad."

"No problem, kiddo."

Quinn hurried past them and up the stairs. Along the way, she talked on the cordless phone. "I'm on my way to my room now, Stacy. We can do this."

Helen looked up the stairs at the departed daughter. "She seemed in a hurry."

"Must be important Fashion Club business," John said.

* * *

A couple days later and curious about Quinn leaving Daria's room, John poked his head inside. Daria was reclining on her bed, reading from a sheet of paper. He asked, "What's your sister plotting this time?" 

Daria turned the sheet to face John. "She…asked me to proofread something."

"Proofread?"

"She and Stacy actually wrote an article to send to Debbie. It's…not that bad."

"Really?"

"Granted, it needs work, but I promised to help her on stuff like this."

"And a deal's a deal."

"Yep."

Teasing, John asked, "So, are you going to get help from her anytime soon?"

* * *

John looked up from drawing his regular cartoon for the _Lawndale Lowdown _to see Jodie enter the newspaper workroom carrying the new copy of _Val_. 

Jodie read from it, "Confident and smart, Daria Morgendorffer is ready to face the twenty-first century on her own terms. In both her style of dress and attitude toward life, Daria blends function with femininity, showing that she won't be a follower of trends, she'll be making them."

"Dammit," Daria said in mock indignation. "I made another good impression."

Jodie flipped a couple pages. "Better than the winner of the writing contest. 'My terrifying day with K and the underground anti-teen brain culture.'"

"Sounds like you two might've hit it off," John said.

Daria shrugged. "Eh, we'll never know."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading. 

October, 2006.


	23. Cupid in a Nutshell

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the twenty-third John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Cupid in a Nutshell**

Looking at his printout, John snickered as Mr. DeMartino addressed the class. "All right, here are the results of your career aptitude tests. Perhaps they'll help you avoid whiskey-soaked decades wondering what might have been if only you'd had the guts to follow your dream of a life at sea!"

Seated beside John, Daria said, "Doesn't it feel good to get it all out?"

"Just don't expect us to clean it up," John tossed in.

The teacher leaned on John's desk to address him. "You've done it once again, Mr. Lane. Perhaps, you think congratulations are in order."

John showed his paper to Daria. "Three straight years of the same result."

Daria quizzically asked, "Accountant?" 

"Answer 'C' for every question and you get the whole test over in under five minutes."

"Meaning…you didn't even try to answer the questions. Maybe Mr. DeMartino has a point."

"There's a first for everything. What'd you get?"

Confused and curious, Daria showed her results to John, saying "Not what I expected, but I guess it could've been worse."

"I don't know; that's kinda cool, in a morbid, _Sick, Sad World_ way. But hey, why base your career choice on a test provided by the lowest bidder?"

Daria smirked and said, "Or the one that slipped the largest kickback to the school."

Trying to read his results, Kevin said, "Petroleum dispen…dispensation? Hey, I'm going to be an oil typhoon!"

Happy, Brittany said, "Oh, Kevvy, that's great!"

Mr. DeMartino stood in front of the slow-witted teen. "Sound it out, Kevin. This says you'll be pumping gas at a filling station!"

Stunned, Kevin said, "I'm going to be a gas jockey for the rest of my life?"

"Eww!" Brittany squeaked as she slid away from Kevin.

John said to Brittany, "Don't worry, when was the last time you actually saw a full-service gas station?"

* * *

Approaching Helen, Daria and John at the dinner table, Quinn cleared her throat and asked, "Do you think gold or platinum looks better with my skin tone?"

Daria replied, "I'd go with aluminum." 

Helen sighed and said, "Daria, please. Quinn, honey, are you thinking about buying a necklace?"

"No, Mom. Well, not right away, that is." Quinn tilted her chin up and turned her head from side to side. "I got my career aptitude test results at school today, and they said I have a future as a jewelry model."

Daria said, "Oh, they said you could be a living mannequin for shiny things."

"Very shiny things," John corrected.

"I think it's wonderful that you're thinking about the future, Quinn, but you've got far more to offer than your looks." Shifting her attention, Helen then said, "Speaking of futures, did the two of you take a career aptitude test?"

John said, "We're not in the same grade as Quinn."

"That doesn't answer my question." Helen's voice hardened a touch and she added, "Do I need to drop by the school myself, talk to that counselor, Mrs. Manson…and if I don't like results, inquire about a retest?" 

"Ouch. No need to pull out the big guns, Mom," Daria said, presenting a sheet of paper.

"We surrender, completely and unconditionally." John quickly followed suit and waited while Helen read the reports.

Glaring at Daria, Helen read, "Your lack of interest in personal interaction makes you an ideal candidate for working with the dead, and combined with your intellectual curiosity and sense of justice make you an excellent candidate for a forensic scientist."

"You always want me to get involved. Can I set up a colony of carrion beetles?" 

"No!" Helen set the report on the table and said, "But, between that awful skeleton poster and those anatomical models in your room, I shouldn't be surprised at this result." 

"You know, dead men can tell tales," Daria cautiously answered.

"And, I'm sure it'll supply you with a lifetime of dinnertime conversation. What about you, John? Accountant?"

He shrugged, "Hey, how accurate can those tests be?"

"You answered 'C' to every question. Amy did the same damn thing. Don't you have any plans for your future?"

"Sure, and I don't need a test to tell me I should be an artist."

"I'll grant you that point, but you should take these things more seriously; you may need a day job to support you until your art does."

"I've put on fifteen pounds since I started living here. I've done the starving artist thing and don't plan on repeating it."

As Jake came in from the living room, Quinn asked, "Daddy, can I have some money for a few head shots?"

He grinned. "Sure! I can run down to the bank right…head shots?" He dashed over to Helen. "Head shots? Is that some new kind of drug or something?"

Helen put her hands on Jake's shoulders and lowered him into a chair. "They're regular portrait photos, and Quinn doesn't need the money."

"But I can't get started without a portfolio," Quinn countered.

"Then, you'll have to get a job and earn the money," Helen explained. 

"A job? What about the Fashion Club booth? You said if I did that, I wouldn't have to find a job or anything."

"Your choice. The booth or the photos."

Quinn squirmed with indecision until Daria said, "Quinn, why don't you ask Stacy's boyfriend, Ted, if he'll shoot the photos. He's almost as attached to that camera as…" Daria glanced at Helen and stopped that train of thought. "…as humanly possible."

"Hey! That's a great idea. Thanks, Daria," Quinn said.

"Yes, Daria," Helen said. "Almost suspiciously good." 

Daria tapped her head. "Big brain? Logical conclusion?" 

Helen relented. "Okay."

* * *

After dinner, Quinn followed Daria and John upstairs and once out of earshot of their parents, asked, "Okay, what's up? Mom had me and you gave me an out."

Daria stopped and held her thumb and forefinger a fraction of an inch apart. "Mom was this far from making you get a job…and we all know that in the interest of fairness, she would make all of us get jobs. Call it enlightened self interest."

Quinn grinned. "Ah yes, because we know you could never do something nice for your sister."

"Who says she can't do both?" John said.

Daria gently warned John, "That never leaves the house."

* * *

Walking down the street with Daria after school, John said, "There are a few advantages to having a job…like having enough money to get the blue bomb back in running condition."

"We'll just have to save our allowance, like any other spoiled, upper-middle class teen does," Daria said. "Besides, I'm starting to like writing for the school paper. It gives me an outlet and forces me to write about subjects I wouldn't otherwise consider. A job would cause problems with that."

"Yeah, and I like my cartoon. Oh, well. Walking gives us more quiet time together, anyway." 

Daria squeezed his hand. "True."

"Wah!" Piercing crying, accompanied by running feet, came to them from behind. Turning to see the source of the noise, they saw Stacy run up and stop in front of Daria. "I can't believe she'd do that to me!"

Daria folded her arms and said, "Who did what to you?"

"Quinn's trying to take Ted away from me!" 

John started to say, "I don't think Ted's…" 

Still crying, Stacy cut him off with, "I was a little worried that he might like you, Daria. I mean, you being smart and all. But I never thought that Quinn would do anything!" 

"What?" Daria answered in growing confusion. 

Between sobs, Stacy rattled on, "But he likes the way I laugh and he's learned to dress less geeky, even if his parents get all weird on him and stuff. Yeah, yeah, I know Quinn can get any guy's attention, that is, any guy but you, John, everyone knows Daria has you hooked, but I didn't think that Quinn would try anything with Ted. We're like, sisters or something like that in the Fashion Club and besides, she always thought he was too geeky, which he is, but that's one of the cute things about him. Why is Quinn doing this to me!?"

Daria grasped Stacy's arms. "Stacy, why do you think Quinn is trying to, um, take Ted away from you?" 

"The last couple days, they've left together after school and went…I don't know where!"

John asked, "Has Ted mentioned anything about what he's doing?"

"He said he's shooting a portfolio for Quinn. Couldn't he at least come up with something better?"

Daria said, "Stacy, Quinn wanted a portfolio because of the results of her career aptitude test. I suggested that she ask Ted to do the photography. That's all it is, he's telling the truth."

"Aah!" Stacy screamed. "Oh, my God, it was your idea! You're helping her!" The hysterical girl spun and ran away at top speed.

John watched Stacy run back to the school and said, "That didn't exactly go well."

Daria shrugged. "The photo shoot should be over soon and Stacy will realize that she's over-reacting. Probably about the time Jamie, Jeffy and Joey run over Ted to get Quinn a soda."

John laughed and started walking home. "Quinn certainly has those three hooked, doesn't she?" 

Daria nodded and walked beside him. "What do you think Stacy meant that she was worried that Ted would like me?" 

"Well, in my biased opinion, I can see that he might." 

"Sorry, kind of weird to think about."

John glanced once again at Daria and reached out to hold her hand. _As if there's a problem with being hooked by you?_

* * *

Outside the Lawndale Mall, Stacy closed her eyes and whispered to herself, "Think shopping. Think shopping."

Stacy then opened them and walked in, ready to let the shopping experience push everything else from her mind. For the next hour, she wandered the stores, looking, trying things on here, pondering what would be a good accessory there, and otherwise totally failing to forget about Ted and her worries.

Putting her sandals back on while seated in a shoe shop, Stacy muttered, "If only I could make him understand how I'm feeling. He's just…confused. That's it, confused." She jumped up and left the store before the salesman returned with another stack of boxed shoes for her to try. She wandered through more of the mall, trying to figure out how to point things out to Ted.

Noticing an enticing aroma, Stacy went to a new kiosk store, It's a Nutty, Nutty, Nutty World. Wearing a shapeless apron and a squirrel-like hat, Kevin stood behind the counter. When she approached, he smiled and said, "Welcome to Weird World Nutty Nut, it won't go to your butt. Lunch and crunch a bunch wing munch." 

Surprised, and misinterpreting Kevin's mangled delivery, Stacy said, "Wow, you have diet nuts? I'll have a bag of macadamias."

"Um, sure, Stacy. A bag of ragamanias."

"Macadamias."

"Oh, yeah. Mackdaddy-Os." Kevin stared back and forth at the numerous bins of nuts, trying to figure out which one was correct.

A red-haired girl with a single long, thin tress falling in front of her face stepped past Kevin and scooped out the requested product, filling a small paper bag. Stepping back around Kevin, she went to the register and rang up the order.

Kevin noticed the red-haired girl and said, "Hey, where are the…oh, you got them. Cool."

She rolled her eyes with a look of "Why me?" and accepted Stacy's payment. After a very brief, forced smile, she gave Stacy her change and purchase without saying a word. 

Kevin grinned again and said, "Come back to Smutty Word!"

"Kevvy!" Brittany called from the other side of the food court. The red-haired girl covered her ears and fled into the back room of the store, leaving Stacy with Kevin still smiling at her. Brittany stopped with her hands on her hips, "I heard you were handing out nuts and smiling your head off. You know women can't resist your smile!"

"Aw, Brit, I gotta smile. It's for the job."

"Are you sure?" 

Suddenly getting an idea, Stacy said, "I can't resist." 

Brittany spun around. "What?"

Stacy smiled at Kevin. "I can't resist his smile. I know I'll be back." 

"Ooooh!" Brittany clenched her fists and stomped away from the stand.

* * *

After dinner, Daria knocked on Quinn's door and looked in. "Um, Quinn?" 

Looking over from her makeup table, Quinn said, "Wow, you're coming into my room. Something big must be going on." 

"Um, Quinn, how's the portfolio coming?"

"We're almost done. You know, Ted really is good at taking pictures. I bet he could make a lot of money as one of those pepperoni guys." 

"Paparazzi?"

"Yeah, them. Daria, is this going to take long? My date will be here soon."

"That brings up what I wanted to talk about."

"Look, you and John have got to find someplace more interesting to go than bookstores and that, ugh, grunge club downtown. Okay, if Chez Pierre isn't your style, how about Casa Alejandro?"

"Quinn, John and I are fine. We ran into Stacy earlier today. She thinks that you and Ted…"

It only took a fraction of a second for Quinn to catch on. "Ted? Oh, please. He's a nice guy and all, really nice to Stacy, but him and me? No way."

"Stacy's convinced and she was rather, I suppose hysterical would be the best description."

From below, Jake's voice called up, "Quinn! Your date is here!"

Quinn hurried past Daria. "I gotta go. We can talk to Stacy tomorrow. Maybe you can get John to talk to Ted. You know, give clueless boy a few hints." 

Before Daria could say more than, "Quinn…" the younger sibling was halfway down the stairs.

John joined Daria in the hallway. "Well, how did it go?"

"It sounds like Stacy's being a little over-imaginative. However, Quinn has agreed to help me talk Stacy down tomorrow."

"Pack your aspirin."

"She also had a good idea for you to talk to Ted."

"If it's what I think you want me to talk about, my track record isn't that great. Everything I said to Kevin went in one ear and out the other."

"Yeah, but Ted apparently has something between the ears. If you're lucky, something might accidentally stick."

* * *

Right after school the next day, John went to the yearbook workroom and cracked the door open to look inside. Ted was easy to find, sitting with perfect posture at the end of one table, examining photographic negatives through a loupe. John entered and stopped next to the blond-haired boy to say, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Suddenly noticing John, Ted looked up and said, "Yes, I have a minute. But I need to leave in two minutes to meet with Quinn for her portfolio pictures."

John took a second to collect his thoughts. "Ted, have you noticed anything, um, different, about the way things are going between you and Stacy?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, that she's bothered about how much time you've spent with Quinn?"

"I don't know why she would. I explained what I was doing, and Quinn is her friend. Though, come to think of it, she did seem a little upset today." 

John sighed with mild relief. "Okay, good, now you're starting to see."

"See what? There's nothing different in this room," Ted replied, completely missing John's point.

"No, I was asking: do you understand why Stacy is upset?"

"Um…no."

"She thinks something is going on between you and Quinn and she's jealous." 

"Of course something is going on; I'm taking pictures of Quinn."

John rubbed his eyes. "But you and Quinn are alone when you do that, correct?"

"Yes. Quinn said she didn't want any distractions."

_I knew Ted was naïve, but…sheesh._ "Ted, on the surface, that could also look like you and Quinn are romantically involved." 

"Why would…" Suddenly, some of his parents' warnings about "other teenagers" sank in for Ted. "No! I wouldn't do anything like that to Stacy."

"I'm sure you didn't, but it could look that way, especially to someone as insecure as Stacy."

"Oh, dear."

"Now you're getting it. Why don't we track down Stacy and get things settled. Daria and Quinn were going to talk to her."

"Okay, I suppose that would be prudent."

* * *

"What do you want?" Stacy asked when she saw Quinn and Daria approach in the hallway.

Daria said, "To talk and clear things up." 

"Right," Stacy sharply replied. "Quinn, why are you doing this to me?"

Quinn carefully said, "Stacy, I'm not doing anything to you. All that's going on is that Ted is taking photographs for my portfolio."

"Then why are you two going off alone? Why can't I be there?"

"Stacy, when you're around, Ted's attention is focused on you. I didn't want him distracted. My career depends on good pictures. Honest, that is all that's going on."

"Really?"

"You know Ted's all wrong for me, Stacy. But I forgot that he can be a tiny bit clueless. I'm sorry. Tell you what, I'll cancel today's shoot and go with what he's already taken. You two run off and have some fun…or whatever it is you do together."

"Really?" 

"Yes, Stacy. I don't want to break you two up." 

"Oh, Quinn!" Stacy hugged her friend in tearful relief. "I knew you were my friend!"

"That was easy," Daria remarked.

"Stacy!" Ted called from an intersecting corridor. He rushed up with John more leisurely walking behind.

"I'm so sorry, Ted," Stacy explained, "I'm so used to assuming the worst…I just, I'm sorry."

Ted said, "No Stacy, I should be apologizing. I didn't think about how things might appear." 

John stopped beside Daria. "Well, that's one crisis averted. How did we get roped into this, anyway?"

Kevin's plaintive voice came down the hallway as he followed Brittany. "But babe…"

"Don't tell me it's just for work. I saw what you were up to with, with…" Brittany saw Stacy and pointed, screaming, "…with her!"

Kevin kind of shrugged and raised his hands, palm upwards. "She just liked my smile."

"She was after a lot more than your smile! I know that look in a girl's face. She wanted what's under all that padding!"

Brittany charged past Stacy and growled, "You can keep him."

Ted asked, "What was that about?" 

Kevin approached Stacy. "So, you still interested in being my babe?"

Cheeks bright red with embarrassment, Stacy stammered incoherently as Ted's face fell in disbelief. He quietly said, "I trusted you," before he turned and hurried away.

John stepped between Stacy and Kevin, turning the taller football player away and saying, "Don't you have practice?"

"Oh, yeah! Gotta go!" Kevin ran at full speed toward the football practice field.

Daria said to Stacy, "Okay, what was that all about?"

Stacy's eyes were wide in shock, looking in the direction Ted had left. "I…I wanted to make Ted jealous like I was. So…I flirted with Kevin at the nut stand in the mall."

Daria shook her head. "Stacy, why did you think that was a good idea?"

"But, they always do things like that in the movies!" Stacy cried. 

"This isn't the movies, this is real life," Daria said.

John added, "Besides, even in the movies, trying to make the other person jealous always backfires."

"Oh, yeah," Stacy quietly agreed. "I forgot about that." 

Quinn asked, "What was that about a nut stand at the mall?"

Stacy said, practically without stopping to breathe, "I went to the mall to take my mind off thinking about you and Ted, okay, I know now that I was wrong, but I didn't know that then. I tried, shopping always made me forget my troubles, but I couldn't get Ted out of my mind. I saw Kevin working at that new nut stand in the mall and Brittany was there, mad at him for smiling at people and stuff. So, I flirted with him because I knew that Brittany would complain all over school about it and that maybe Ted would hear and get jealous. I'm sorry!"

Daria leaned against John and said to him, "I should've known it wasn't going to be that easy."

John snorted a frustrated laugh before saying, "Too bad we can't get something like Cupid's bow. Plunk a couple quick arrows into them and problem solved."

Daria said, "It's the nineties; Cupid's probably switched to something high-tech, maybe with laser sights."

Quinn said, "What's Kevin doing working at a nut stand?"

"Finally working among his peers?" John suggested.

* * *

Daria sat on her bed, arms folded over her chest and jean-clad legs drawn up, staring at the ceiling. "Damn butterfly effect. Who'd have thought trying to help Quinn would cause this much of a mess?"

Lying across the bed near her feet, John leaned on one arm and said, "Like I've told Mom: if I ever catch that damn bug, I'm yanking its wings off."

"Life was a lot easier as a complete outcast."

"But you have to admit, it was also duller."

Taylor pushed the door open with his nose and bounded across the room, leaping onto the bed and stopping with his head and paws resting on Daria's stomach, looking up patiently. 

"Just invite yourself in next time," Daria told the feline while starting to pet its head, "I suppose asking you for advice would be a waste of time."

John said, "Since the vet removed most of his interest in that subject, I'd guess so. But, it looks like the petting therapy is working."

Daria faintly smiled. "Cats, they are such insidious creatures. But he's still not helping with the problem. My suggestion started this mess and I feel responsible for trying to straighten it out." 

"Yeah," John agreed. "Ted was really knocked for a loop by Stacy's stunt."

Daria admitted, "I can understand; I remember how I felt when Brittany tried the same thing with you."

"But you listened to reason. Ted simply doesn't want to hear anything at all."

Moving her hand around the cat's head to scratch under his chin, Daria said, "I'm beginning to suspect that Ted's never been seriously, emotionally, hurt before."

"And he finds out, from Brittany, that his first love was flirting with Kevin. You know, I think I'd want to scrub my brains out with bleach if that happened to me."

"We both know that Stacy wasn't serious, she just had a really stupid idea. The problem is going to be getting that idea through to Ted. He's convinced Stacy and Kevin are a couple, as unlikely as that sounds to us."

John sat up and started to pet Taylor. "I wonder if Trent might have an idea to help us out."

"Trent?"

"Who else has more practical experience at breaking up and then making up than him and Monique?"

"Good point." 

"Monique might also have some ideas."

"Yeah, but I'm not sure that make-up sex would…" Daria blushed and mumbled, "Uh, never mind."

Curiosity massively piqued, John asked, "What?"

"Um, nothing." 

"That wasn't 'nothing.'"

Daria uncomfortably sighed. "In a TMI moment, Monique mentioned that she and Trent, when they get back together…"

"Um…okay, I can figure out the rest, but I'm not going to try to fill in the details. On second thought, maybe asking Trent or Monique would be a bad idea."

"I wonder…" Daria said, pondering a new thought.

"Yes…?"

"I wonder if Ted is backing away to avoid being hurt more. That he refuses to listen to anyone in case they have more bad news."

"Meaning, we need to convince him that he won't be hurt by listening." 

"Actually, I'm afraid partially drawing from Stacy's thinking might help."

"Okay…I'm not following you."

"Ted thinks that Stacy wants to be with Kevin. If we show him that Kevin and Brittany are back together…" 

John rolled his eyes. "They break up more than Trent and Monique."

"He doesn't have to know that. But, if we can show that Kevin isn't interested in Stacy, Ted might listen to us, or her."

John swallowed hard and said, "That means…aw man."

* * *

Daria rubbed her eyes under her glasses and then massaged her temples. "Damn conscience." Feeling like she was facing a firing squad, Daria stopped Brittany in a school hallway.

"Hi, Daria!" the blonde chirped.

"Can I ask a favor?"

"A favor? Sure! Your skirt is fine, you have the legs for it, but that jacket has got to go. Too bad John didn't keep his letterman's jacket; that would look good on you," Brittany started to rattle off, not waiting to hear anything more.

"Whoa. I just wanted to ask for a ride to the mall. The car John and I use is broken down."

"I love shopping at the mall! I'll meet you right after school."

"Thanks. Will it be okay if John comes along?"

"I guess so, but won't he be bored? I know Kevin used to get bored."

"I'm sure John can find something to do."

* * *

"Hey, buddy, we are the world Nutty Nuts. Come to bunch a crunch….um, lunch scrunch," Kevin said to John the next afternoon.

At the far end of the counter, the red-haired girl clasped the ankh worn around her neck and tilted her head back with eyes closed, whispering something that was perhaps a prayer.

A man's voice from the back room yelled, "Kevin! It's, 'Welcome to It's a Nutty, Nutty, Nutty World. We're just nuts about nuts. Crunch nuts with your lunch. Buy them by the bunch. Send them to friends far away to munch.'" 

Kevin quickly looked over his shoulder and then back to John, "Yeah, what he said."

"How about a bag of peanuts?"

Kevin scanned the back of the storage bins. "Peanuts…peanuts…" A cashew bounced off of the top of one bin, making him exclaim, "Peanuts!"

Pointing to John across the food court, Daria said, "There he is." 

Peering around a large shopping bag in her arms, Brittany saw John accepting his order and said, 'Oooh, how can John associate with that…that…smiling Cas, Casa, um, Cassandra!"

Holding a small bag barely larger than her hand, Daria took a moment to resist responding to Brittany's misstatement before she said, "Knowing John, he's hungry, and when he has food on the mind, nothing else matters."

Brittany's lip trembled. "Kevvy's like that, too. I wish he'd never started working at the stupid nut stand, with all the smiling and stuff."

A young woman approached the stand, so Kevin smiled and stumbled through the greeting, causing Brittany to clench her fists and seethe at the sight. Daria hoped she wasn't going to regret her actions, and then said, "Brittany, if it bothers you, go show that you can charm Kevin more than she can."

"What can I do? His smile is so unresistible."

"But…who do you think will be more, um, unresisitble to Kevin; you or her?"

"Me!" 

"Why don't you go show it?"

"I will!" 

Brittany strode with certainty to Kevin, while Daria followed a bit behind, stepping aside toward John. She told him, "It's up to them, now."

John offered the open bag to Daria. "Peanuts?"

"Since you don't have popcorn, sure."

Swinging the entrance countertop up and out of the way, Brittany grabbed Kevin's shoulders and said to the dumbfounded woman at the counter, "Can you do this for him?" before locking Kevin into a passionate kiss.

"What in the world is going on?" the store manager shouted after opening the door in response to the loud thump caused by Kevin and Brittany falling against it.

Kevin's mumbled replies didn't help the manager's mood. Nearby, the red haired girl was quickly trying to complete the shocked customer's order while trying to ignore the activity 3 feet behind her back.

The manager reached between the teens and pushed them apart. "Kevin! What's the matter with you?"

"Uh….nothing?" Kevin said, not even sure why his boss was asking.

"Nothing? If that's your attitude, then you're fired!" The manager snatched the furry cap from Kevin's head and added, "Just leave the apron here and don't come back. Your check will be mailed."

"Um, I can go now? Cool!" Kevin threw the apron on the counter, grabbed Brittany around the waist and made a fast exit.

"Oh, Kevvy!" Brittany squealed as they disappeared into the mall crowd.

The manager looked at his remaining employee. "Can you handle things while I try to call in a temp?"

The girl nodded as a faint smile formed on her lips. Once the manager had returned to the back room and closed the door, she stepped from around the counter to John and Daria. Putting one arm around each, the girl bowed her head between their shoulders and gratefully said, "Thank you."

* * *

"Looks like Ted's gone back to his old taste in clothing," John said as he and Daria walked toward the boy sitting on a bench near the front of school.

Daria said, "Maybe a little more relaxed. As if he's stepping away from how Stacy had him dress, but not all the way back to the way his parents did."

"Maybe that's a good thing."

"Stacy dressing him up seemed a little bizarre."

"What do you want?" Ted asked the two.

"To talk to you about Stacy," Daria said, plainly.

"I don't want to talk about her," Ted curtly replied.

John asked, "Why, exactly, are you mad at her?"

"You were there and heard what Brittany and Kevin said."

"Hm-mm. Have you seen those two, today?" Daria asked.

"No."

"Come here," John said, waving for Ted to follow.

"Where?" 

"The parking lot."

"Is this a trick?" 

Daria said, "No, Ted. We only want you to see something for yourself."

A minute or so later, John stopped at the edge of the parking lot and pointed to Kevin's Jeep, parked in one of the prized front row spots. Kevin and Brittany were making out in the back seat. "See them?"

"Oh, that's Kevin and Brittany."

"Very good," Daria said. "Do you think Stacy would tolerate that if she were dating Kevin?" 

"No," Ted replied.

"Okay, so will you take a chance on at least talking to Stacy? It's not going to hurt you to try."

Sighing, Ted said, "Okay."

* * *

Just inside the door of Pizza Prince, John, Daria and Ted saw Quinn wave at them from the booth she was sharing with Stacy. As the three grew near, Quinn stood and stepped aside. "Hi."

Shyly, Stacy also said, "Hi."

"We all know why we're here," Daria announced. "So, John, Quinn and I will find a seat over there and leave you two alone."

John added, "Take my word for it, everyone makes mistakes, and everyone gets jealous." 

Daria grasped his hand. "Everyone," she said, in agreement. "And we all have to learn to deal with them. That's where trust is important. To learn the truth when your jealousy doesn't want to hear it."

Stacy said, "Um, thanks, guys."

Quinn laughed and said, "Yeah, listen to the old couple."

"I don't know how we should take that," John said to Daria.

She said, "We'll just have to give something in return…later."

* * *

Quinn picked up the napkin John had been sketching on, smirked at Daria, and said, "That's a real interesting look for the Spirit of Halloween." 

Daria explained, "The character's supposed to give a hint of mischief."

Quinn grinned wider. "I was thinking more like, naughty."

"Maybe a little," John said, taking the napkin back.

Teasing, Quinn said, "It would be an interesting look for Daria, too." The two sets of blushing cheeks brought an even wider smile to her face.

As a distraction, John nodded toward Stacy and Ted, who were leaning in close at their booth, whispering. John said, "Looks like things are working out over there."

"Wow, you did it," Quinn said, not trying to hide her awe.

"Looks like just getting them to talk was the ticket," John said, feeling a little proud of their efforts.

Ted and Stacy both rose from the booth and stood beside it. He extended his hand and asked, "Can we be friends instead?"

Stacy grinned and shook Ted's hand. "Friends. I think I like that."

"You know," Daria said, "I don't think they're getting back together."

"There goes our careers as yentas," John said, joking to cover his disappointment.

"But…" Quinn muttered as Ted and Stacy walked over to their booth.

Stacy spoke first, saying, "Hey guys. We talked things through and stuff and decided to be friends. We were getting kind of freaky around each other and well, um, it wasn't good. But Ted's a real sweet guy and all and I want him as a friend, so that's, like, what we're going to do."

Ted said, "John, Daria, you showed me that my parents were wrong about other kids; you care about more than just yourselves. Stacy was the best, first girlfriend I could have. Thank you."

* * *

Nearing home as they walked along the sidewalk, Daria said, "The rolling train wrecks are back together and the nice couple decides to be friends. Oh, and Quinn decided she didn't want to limit herself to just jewelry, when she could model so much more. If Cupid exists, he's one sick bastard."

"What does that say about us?" John inquired.

Daria half-smiled, kissed his cheek, and said, "Proof that he's a sick bastard."

John put his arm around Daria's waist. "And all this time, I thought it was because his aim sucked."

"Damn, Mom's home early," Daria said as she saw the red SUV parked in the driveway.

"Maybe we should've accepted that ride from the boy Quinn left with." 

"Too late now."

"Yep."

"Sorry for running a little late. We had some stuff to do after school," Daria told Helen as she and John entered the house.

From the kitchen, where she was starting dinner, Helen said, "I know I'm the one that encouraged you to join the school newspaper, so please don't take this wrong. Both of you are putting a lot of effort into your writing and drawing, but they are still rather solitary activities. I worry about your interpersonal skills and think that maybe, you need to find some way to be more…engaged…with your classmates."

Daria sighed and looked over at John, who merely shook his head. She said to her mother, "If we get any more engaged with our classmates, I'll need a background in forensic science to avoid prosecution."

* * *

Dialog from:  
_It Happened One Nut_ by Rachel Lipman

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

December 2006


	24. Heart Flush

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the twenty-fourth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Heart Flush**

Helen saw a red-haired woman wearing combat fatigue pants and a close-fitting tank top crossing the yard toward the front door as she pulled into her home's driveway. She opened the window and said, "Can I help you?"

The woman said, "Hey, you must be Mrs. Morgendorffer. I'm John's sister, Penny."

A bird in the airline carrier she held squawked, so Penny added, "This is Chiquito."

"Oh, how nice to finally meet you," Helen replied, stepping out of her SUV. "John should be inside; the car is here." 

Acknowledging the worn blue sedan, Penny said, "So Trent finally gave up on that old thing?"

"Trent didn't need it as much since he lives downtown, so John and Daria use it to drive back and forth to school."

"I'm surprised it's still running."

Opening the door of the house, Helen said, "Up until last week, it wasn't. Please, come in." 

"Thanks."

"Are you going to be staying in Lawndale?"

"Nah. I just spent a week with Mom and Dad after a volcano swallowed my native craft stand in Costa Rica and now I'm on my way to Puerto Rico."

"How interesting."

Inside the house, Penny looked around cautiously, like somebody who'd entered the enemy's camp. She said, "Um, nice place you've got here."

"Why, thank you. John's probably in his room painting. Why don't you go on up and surprise him? Top of the stairs and just to the left."

"Why not?"

Penny jogged up the staircase and opened the indicated door. "Hey, John! How's this for…oops. Uh, surprise?"

Incredibly surprised, John and Daria released their embrace and separated, with John falling onto the floor from the bed while Daria uncomfortably found herself pulling the edge of her shirt down.

John sputtered, "Penny?"

The older Lane grinned and said, "Mrs. Morgendorffer let me in, so…" 

Red-faced, Daria said, "What's she doing home early?" 

"I don't know," Penny said while closing the door and offering her hand to help John stand up. "But I bet you're glad I came upstairs instead of her."

* * *

Talking while eating quickly, Penny said to the Morgendorffer family gathered around the dinner table, "Me, Summer, and two of her offspring in one room…"

Remembering the size of his parents' cabin at Ashfield, John said, "One small room."

"Yeah," Penny agreed. "Bad idea. And people wonder why I don't want kids. Anyway, I couldn't take it anymore, so once I wrangled some backing, I took off for Puerto Rico. Since this is on the way, I decided to stop by and see my little brother gone good."

"That backing didn't happen to come from Mom and Dad, did it?" John cautiously asked. 

"Don't worry," Penny reassured John, "I got the hint. Being gone so much, I never realized how much you and Trent were being shorted. The backing came from…other sources." 

Helen said, "Don't forget that, as a lawyer, there are some things I shouldn't hear."

"Gotcha, not a word. That reminds me; do you handle divorces?"

Jake asked, "You're married?"

John groaned and said, "Wind." 

Penny drained her glass and said, "You got it. When he started having to pay his own alimony, Wind's latest told him to take a hike."

"I don't handle divorces," Helen explained. "But we have a couple associates that do. Wind will need to set up an appointment."

Penny laughed. "Oh, I wasn't trying to hire you; I just wanted a professional opinion of how much of an idiot he's been."

* * *

With Penny about to leave, Helen asked, "Are you sure you won't stay the night? It can be dangerous out there." 

"Last I heard, there weren't any counter-revolutionaries in Lawndale and I think I can handle any ordinary low-lifes I run into."

John waved and said, "Good luck, Penny." 

"You too," Penny replied. "Don't let the bourgeois lifestyle ruin you."

"Too late; I'm getting rather attached to it."

After the family returned inside and the door closed, Jake asked, "Doesn't anybody think it's strange that Penny has red hair?"

"Da-ad!" Quinn said, amazed at her father's ignorance, "Don't you know that shade of red can only come from a bottle?"

"Really? How can you tell?"

She waved her hands and said, "Trust me, if you don't understand, there's no way I can explain it."

* * *

Upstairs, John followed Daria into her room and pulled the door near-closed. "That was close." 

Looking at the floor, Daria said, "I'm glad Penny had a sense of humor about it."

Awkwardly standing next to her, John said, "We were getting a little…"

"Yeah. And scary, but also…"

John softly smiled at Daria. "Yeah."

"This isn't going to get any easier." 

"No."

"I'm glad Mom had me start on the pill. Most of my life, I've been able to keep my emotions under control, but at times now, I'm not certain."

"I, um, don't think that we're really ready."

"I don't think so, either."

"It's not because I don't think you're…uh…attractive."

"You're not so bad, yourself. The temptation makes me realize why Mom was so worried…" 

"I'm realizing how your parents really took a big risk letting me stay here. They trust you."

Daria took his hand. "And you."

"I guess we'll have to keep trying to keep that trust."

"That's just what we needed: another annoying complication to surviving high school."

* * *

After parking the car in the school lot the next morning, Daria cocked an ear and listened. "That sounds so much better."

Not hearing anything, John asked, "What?" 

"No more 'Mental in the Morning' nonsense." 

Opening the car door, John said, "I wonder what school they're torturing this week?"

Picking up her backpack from the rear seat, Daria said, "Does it matter?"

"Hey, it would be the most likely place for a student to lose it and climb up on the roof with a sniper rifle."

"Hmm. Good point. Think they might secretly be on Sick, Sad World's payroll?" 

"But what about their journalistic integrity?" 

"Their what?" Daria asked as she closed the door. 

Also closing his door, John said, "Sorry, temporary brain damage."

"Did you sneak out and listen to Mystik Spiral practice?"

"I said brain damage, not brain death."

* * *

Under the words, "Tristan and Isolde", Mr. O'Neill wrote as he said, "And of course, the concept of chastity is important…"

Kevin chuckled and said, "Man, those belt thingies must really suck. I didn't know those Round Table dudes were into that kind of thing."

Mr. O'Neill sighed heavily. "No, Kevin. It's not like that."

Ms. Li's voice over the intercom interrupted the class. "Mr. O'Neill. Please send Daria Morgendorffer and John Lane to the office immediately and have them bring their things; they will not be returning."

Looking at each other with their faces saying, "What did we do now?" the two pushed notebooks into their backpacks while the class watched.

Daria said, "Do you want us to read the next chapter tonight?"

Wringing his hands, Mr. O'Neill said, "Oh! Um, yes, read the next chapter."

Under everyone's watchful eyes, John and Daria left the room. Still turned to watch, Kevin said to Brittany, "I wonder if Daria's dad makes her wear one. You know, that's why John and Daria aren't doing it."

Twirling her hair around a finger, Brittany said, "I don't think I've seen anything like that when we change for gym class."

"Oh yeah, she must keep it hidden."

* * *

"Quinn?"

"Daria?" 

The sisters stopped just short of the office door and Quinn said, "You were called to the office, too?"

John said, "Yes."

"Oh God, what did you do?" Quinn asked.

Daria answered, "Nothing, as far as we know, and certainly nothing that would have you involved." 

"Then what's going on?"

Daria stepped forward and opened the door. "I don't have a clue. Let's find out."

Quinn had barely closed the door before Ms. Li rushed toward them. "Daria, Quinn, your mother called and said your father has been taken to Cedars of Lawndale Hospital. You two and John are excused from school to go there."

"Daddy?" Quinn cried.

Daria paled faintly and said, "Do you know what happened?"

"No, Ms. Morgendorffer, but your mother was very clear that you should go there immediately," Li said, herding them toward the school exit, obviously intent on fulfilling Helen's directive.

Daria started to guide her stunned sister and said, "John, will you drive?"

"Yeah." John started to jog ahead, saying over his shoulder, "I'll open the car and get it started."

Minutes later, John was driving to the hospital with Daria and Quinn both in the back seat. Eyes wide, Quinn said, "What's wrong with Daddy, Daria?" 

"I don't know, Quinn. We'll have to wait until we get to the hospital."

"You don't know? That's kind of scary."

"Quinn, I…I'm sorry."

* * *

Helen sprang across the waiting room and hugged all three teens. "Oh, thank goodness you made it!" 

"What happened to Daddy?" Quinn quickly asked. 

Helen glared back at the nurses' station. "They won't tell me anything."

"Mom," Daria said, attempting to be reassuring, "It's possible that they don't know yet. Start from the beginning: what do you know?"

Helen caught her breath and said, "Jake collapsed during a presentation to a new client, at Lawndale Downs Race Track. He was brought here in an ambulance and they called me from the emergency contact number on his insurance card. I called the school and got here about five minutes ago. They've been most uncooperative." 

"The doctors are probably still examining Dad and running tests. We'll just have to wait."

"You have to keep on these people."

Daria nodded toward some seats. "Come on, let's sit down."

Reluctantly, Helen followed Daria, with Quinn and John joining them. Helen sat where she could keep a constant eye on the nurses' station and the double doors to the treatment rooms. Quinn sat to Helen's left and anxiously watched with her mother. Daria sat to Helen's right and calmly kept an eye on Helen and Quinn. When John sat down, Daria discreetly reached for his hand, squeezing it tight and betraying the concern under her calm.

Almost an hour later, a woman in a white lab coat exited the exam rooms and stopped by the nurses' station. The desk nurse pointed to the Morgendorffers. With a nod, the doctor approached and said, "Mrs. Morgendorffer?" as Helen rose.

"Yes," Helen tersely replied. "How is Jake?"

"It looks like he suffered a minor heart attack."

"Oh, dear!" Helen said with concern. 

"Is it bad?" Quinn asked, nearing panic. 

"Fortunately, no. He's awake and being transferred to a regular room for observation and more tests."

Helen said, "When can we see him?"

"Ten or fifteen minutes, once everything is settled."

Daria said, "It sounds like there wasn't much heart damage."

"We still need to run more tests, but I don't think so. It's nice to see such family concern." The doctor then addressed Helen. "By the way, does your husband have a high-stress job?"

"He's self-employed."

The doctor nodded. "That's probably it. I've seen plenty of patients who were their own worst boss."

* * *

"Hi, Dad," Daria said at the door to Jake's hospital room.

From the bed, Jake said, "Hey, kiddo."

"Hi, Jake," John said, standing behind Daria, feeling faintly out of place yet knowing this was where he should be.

Helen hurried past Daria and John to her husband's side. "Jakey! Don't worry about a thing; we'll take care of you."

"Helen, are you okay?" he inquired. 

Helen patted a book held in her hand. "This has everything we need to know about a heart attack survivor…and I'm going to follow every word of it."

Quinn followed Helen into the room and went to the other side of the bed. "We were so worried about you, Daddy."

"You were?"

"Of course. Can you imagine how freaked out everyone would be if you died?"

Jake gulped. "Died?"

"Dad, you're going to be okay," Daria said.

"Died?" 

"Jake, calm down," Helen warned. "You're going to be released in a day or two."

"Yeah, Dad, and we're going to take care of you at home."

"Quinn, you'll be in school and Mom will be at work," Daria said.

John innocently asked, "Any relatives you could call to help out?" 

Jake smiled. "Mom?"

* * *

"What?" Quinn exclaimed, standing in the upstairs hallway.

Helen repeated her statement, "You and Daria will have to share her room while your Grandmother Ruth is staying with us."

"Don't I have a say in this?" Daria said, almost as disturbed as Quinn.

"No. I'm not going to force Ruth or anyone else to sleep on a couch; she'll have to stay in one of the bedrooms. You are well aware that John sharing a room is right out, so that leaves one of you girls' rooms for Ruth. Since Quinn's room is…um…"

"Less disturbing?" Daria finished.

"I was thinking more conventional." 

Quinn huffed and said, "Mom, my room is way more than just conventional."

Helen ignored her daughters' comments. "It's the only logical decision."

Daria looked directly at Quinn. "My room, my bed. Don't even try it." 

"But Daria, I need…"

Helen said, "Quinn, it's your sister's room. You'll have to use the sleeping pad." 

"Mo-om! Don't you realize what that could do to my hair?"

"Nothing that I'm sure you can't fix in the morning. Oh, and Daria, you will share your space, not rent it." 

Quinn looked into Daria's room at her desk. "I'm going to need some space for makeup and stuff."

Daria sighed. "I can make space on the desk."

"Hmm, I'll have to bring my own mirror."

"I'll make space for that, too."

Quinn stepped to her room and looked in. "My clothes! Mom, you don't expect me to put my clothes in Daria's closet?"

Helen said, "I don't think that will be necessary; you'll just have to work around Ruth's schedule. Such as, laying out your clothes the night before."

"Uh? The night before? How can I make adjustments to fit my look for the day?" 

Daria said, "You'll just have to fake it."

The doorbell rang, causing Helen to whirl around, saying, "She's here! Now everyone, behave yourselves," before rushing downstairs.

"Behave ourselves?" Quinn said, putting her hands on her hips. "What does she think we've been doing?" 

Noticing Daria and John's glance at each other, Quinn moved to the stairs, saying, "I don't want to know. Better go down and see Grandma."

"It's so good to see you again, Ruth," Helen said upon opening the door for the diminutive, gray-haired woman.

"Hi, Grandma," Quinn called, rushing up behind Helen.

"Helen, Quinn," Ruth said, "How's my Jakey doing?"

"He's upstairs, resting," Helen said.

"I see. Where's Daria?" 

"Here, Grandma," Daria said from halfway down the stairs. "Along with the latest addition to the family, John. Believe me; Mom had a hard time with that delivery."

Ruth looked up. "Oh, that boy you took in. Are you sure he's safe?" 

John said, "Trust me; this place is a lot safer than my old house. For one thing, the roof doesn't leak."

Offended, Helen said, "Ruth! How could you say that?"

"Just being careful," Ruth explained. "You never can tell what some people may actually be like until it's too late."

"Like your husband?"

Faintly, Jake's voice could be heard, saying, "Mom? Is that you?"

"Jake! I'll be right up," Ruth called as she hurried up the stairs, weaving between Daria and John.

After she was out of sight, John said, "Hmm, not much different than Grandma Lane."

Helen said, "John, I'm sorry. I didn't think that Ruth would say anything like that."

Daria raised her eyes toward Jake and Helen's room. "I can't wait for when she finds out how close our rooms are to each other."

"Oh dear," Helen said, beginning to rub her eyes. "Daria, I don't think it would be a good idea to leave your pills around for her to see."

* * *

Leaving the bathroom that evening, John passed Ruth, who warned him, "I'll be keeping an eye on my granddaughters' door."

He frowned and stepped to his room, closing the door and sitting heavily on the bed. _Just a couple more years and we'll be away at college. I guess I can't blame Ruth: the situation looks suspicious. But dammit, can't we get some credit for not giving in? Get a little support for not giving, "Something could happen tomorrow and you'll never know," as an excuse?_

He dropped backward and stared at the ceiling. _With what happened to Jake…_ John shook his head and quickly sat up. "No, you're not going there."

* * *

Quinn knelt on the floor, setting up her sleeping pad. "Daria, I've been thinking."

"A year ago, I'd have been shocked by that statement," Daria said while reluctantly clearing space on her writing desk.

"Funny. What happened to Dad was scary. I'm, um, thinking about becoming a heart doctor. You know, just in case something happens to him again?" 

Daria stepped across the room to the shelf near her bed and picked up an anatomical model of a human heart. "Want to borrow it?"

"Ew, what's that?"

"A model of a human heart."

"No way; that's gross." 

"Only trying to help."

Thinking more clearly, Quinn said, "That really is what a heart looks like, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Quinn played with the edge of her sheet. "You think I was silly for even thinking about it."

Daria almost made a sarcastic remark, but stopped. "Quinn, I don't doubt your sincerity, but…" 

"But, you don't think I'm smart enough."

"No. Actually, I think that it wouldn't be something that suits your talents."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Before Daria could respond, Quinn added, "Wait…you think I am smart enough to be a doctor?"

"You are my sister; you just use your intelligence in ways…I don't."

"Like, what?"

"Tell me about your date from the, hmm, twenty-third of last month."

"Let's see," Quinn paused for a moment to bring up the memory before saying, "Dennis, a 56 on my dating scale. He wore a really cute shirt, but his shoes were a little scuffed. We rode in his father's BMW with…"

"That's good. How does that dating scale work?"

"Well, I figure in his height and build, taste in clothes, the kind of places he knows to take a girl out to for dinner, the car he…"

"Where did it come from?"

"I figured it out."

"See?" 

"Oh. But, I thought you thought that was so shallow." 

"Well, I think the goal is, but the effort you put into making it shows that you're smarter than you pretend to be." 

"But, you don't think I'd be a good heart doctor." 

"No more than I would."

With a devilish grin on her face, Quinn looked up and over toward Daria. "You know, you're my sister, too."

Understanding, Daria said, "Thanks, but you're not giving me a makeover."

* * *

In the school cafeteria the next day, Daria tapped her fork on her plate. "The really weird part is, I swear, that they keep trying to listen for…I don't know what." 

John said, "Listen?"

"Like they expect me to fart on command or something."

"That would be an effective way to get them to back away."

"In that case, I'll eat an extra helping of Mom's 'Heart-Smart Chili' tonight."

"Your grandmother didn't seem too impressed by it."

"She's from the 'when in doubt, toss in an extra helping of lard' school of cooking."

"Glad I stayed out of the kitchen."

"Well, cooking is women's work," Daria said with annoyance.

"Yeah, her comments to Quinn about how to find a good man were…enlightening."

Daria shifted on the hard plastic seat and several nearby students paused to listen. She said, "See?" 

"Weird…"

* * *

"Your mom's home?" John asked as he parked the car behind Helen's SUV. 

"Looks like it."

"Must be keeping an eye on the competition."

Daria reached over the seat to grab her book bag. "Dad's never going to want to leave with the way they've been pampering him."

John reached back for his bag and pulled a card from it. "Speaking of weird, this was in my gym locker today."

Daria read the card, "Lawndale Locksmiths. We'll open anything." She asked him, "Trouble with your locker?"

"No."

"Weird." 

"And I bet it's only going to get weirder." 

Opening the house door, they heard Helen saying, "Ruth, I regularly cook for my family."

"Oh, really? Where do you keep your bacon fat?" Ruth said.

"My what?" Helen said, as if replying to a rude comment about her appearance. 

"From cooking bacon. Don't tell me you let it go to waste."

"Ruth, Jake needs to cut back on his fat intake."

"It's only a little bacon fat; it won't hurt anything."

"Ruth…"

"Okay, Helen. Since you don't have any on hand, I'll have to just do without. Where's your lard?"

John said, "Quinn would be horrified to hear that."

Daria said, "I'm not too thrilled, myself. But at least Grandma hasn't offered to make sausage yet."

"Is that bad?"

"She usually starts with a fresh pig."

"Better than a stale pig."

"John when I say fresh…um, have you ever heard of blutwurst?

"Hmm, there are some artistic…" 

"We better let them know we're home."

John yelled, "We're home!"

Daria made a face at him. "Subtle."

Helen came around the corner from the kitchen. "Hi kids, we were just preparing dinner."

Ruth stepped up beside Helen. "Your mother's a little short on things, but I'll do the best I can."

Taking a step up the stairs, Daria said, "We'll say hi to Dad and then start our homework while you two are busy."

"Daria, don't you want to help with dinner?" Ruth asked.

"I'll pass." Taking another step, Daria said, "You know what they say about too many cooks…"

"But how are you ever going to cook for your, uh…" Ruth stopped, uneasily watching John. 

John said, "Husband? Don't worry; I plan on getting a job at Cluster Burger. That way, we can have all the discount burgers we will ever need."

"We better go see Dad," Daria said, pulling on John's hand to hurry him up the stairs.

On the landing, John said, "Sorry, I couldn't resist."

She quickly gave him a kiss. "I'm grumpy because you beat me to it." 

"Daria, is that you?" Jake said from his room.

At the door, she said, "Yes, Dad. How are you?"

John also said, "Hey, Jake. Doing any better?"

Jake shrugged. "Better? I don't know, well, maybe, I suppose." 

"You're starting to sound like your old self," Daria said, stopping beside her father's bed.

He reached for her hand. "What if I'm not? Something could happen at any time and it'll be up to you to take care of things."

"I think Mom might have a thing or two to say."

He gripped harder. "Helen will be too upset, and Quinn…oh God!" 

Daria loosened Jake's hand. "Dad, the doctor said you're going to be fine after some rest."

"That is, if Helen and Ruth trying to outdo each other doesn't overwhelm everybody first," John said, half serious.

Jake said, "Let's face it; anything could happen to any of us."

"Well, yeah, I suppose so," Daria tentatively agreed.

"And we'd miss the things we were looking forward to, like my promise to walk you down the aisle," Jake said while nodding toward John. 

Daria said, "I don't remember that, but…I suppose it could be negotiable."

Jake sighed and said, "And what about all the stuff we've been putting off for 'the right time?' What if something happens before then? Think of everything we'll miss!"

Suddenly uneasy, Daria mumbled, "Um, yeah, Dad."

The same unease fell over John, for what he was certain was the same reason. His thoughts after running into Ruth the night before came back to him.

"Daria, John, don't let things pass you by."

Needing to change the subject, John said, "Just about everything passes the blue bomb." 

"Yeah, it's the only car with bug splatters on the back bumper," Daria said, picking up on John's intent.

"Hi, Daddy," Quinn said, entering the room. The younger sister walked over and stopped at the foot of Jake's bed. "Daria, I think we need to do something downstairs. Grandma asked Mom if she's going to hire an interior decorator, and they're both holding knives."

* * *

Sitting on her bed and wearing a nightshirt, Daria asked Quinn, who was organizing her makeup for the morning, "Okay, you're connected to the school rumor mill. What gives? People were looking at me strange all day, and listening for something."

Uncomfortable, Quinn said, "You didn't hear?"

"No, that's why I'm asking you." 

"Well, um, people are saying that Mom and Dad are making you wear a…whatcha call it…chatterley belt."

"A chastity belt?" Daria almost spat. "Kevin! But come on: half the girls in the junior class see me naked every day in gym class and should know better."

"They, uh…say it's made of brass."

"Yeah, and they probably say I could freeze the balls off a brass monkey."

"With bunny fur edging."

Daria shook her head in disbelief. "Fur edging…bunny fur edging."

"That's what someone said that they saw."

"Did you at least try to dispel that little bit of fiction?"

"Daria, you know trying to stop a rumor like that would only get me included. No offense, but…no way. You know what that could do to my dating potential?"

"Yeah, yours would probably have pink fur."

"Daria, we need to do something about this rumor, just in case it spreads."

* * *

Outside the gymnasium, Daria halted John as they walked to PE class. "John, I better warn you."

"Warn me about what?" he asked, curious.

"I'm going to squelch this chastity belt rumor. Hopefully with logic, but if called for, any means necessary. No telling what the repercussions might be."

"You're serious."

"Very."

"That'll work for our class, but what about the others?"

Daria allowed a small smile. "Quinn realized what might happen if people associated 'sister' with 'chastity belt' and she agreed to educate the sophomores."

"With the freshman falling predictably into line," John said, returning the smile.

"And the seniors will ignore everyone else, as usual."

* * *

Quinn stopped in the middle of the school hallway. "Sandi, like I would allow anything like that in our house?"

The rest of the Fashion Club stopped and turned. Sandi said, "But people have said they've seen it."

Quinn shifted her attention to Stacy. "You know something like that would leave huge panty lines. Have you seen any on Daria?"

"Gee, Quinn, no I haven't." Stacy said.

"Yeah," Tiffany added. "You really can't see them at all."

"Okay," Sandi agreed. "But what does this have to do with us?" 

"Daria lives in my house. Do you want people to think we approve of it?"

Sandi's eyes hardened. "The rumor ends now."

* * *

Clad in her gym clothes and aware of the attention, Daria walked to one end of the girls locker room and stepped up onto a bench. "By your stares, I'm confident you've all heard the rumor about my, or my parents' choice for me, of undergarments."

A light buzz of chatter answered her.

Daria's eyes met each student's in turn. "There really are no secrets in here. You know nobody has seen me wearing a chastity belt, or anything remotely similar." 

The chatter continued unabated.

"But for some reason, you choose to believe the rumor anyway." Irked, Daria said, "John and I have chosen not to have sex out of a sense of responsibility to ourselves. That's right: it's our choice, not my parents' nor anybody else's."

The other students' attention started to wander as Daria's temper rose further. "Since it's clear that you still can't understand this simple concept, here's clear evidence that the rumor is wrong."

She suddenly turned and dropped her shorts, mooning the entire class.

* * *

"Was it an accident with a time machine and a condom? I am my own grandpa - the paternity test! Next, on _Sick, Sad World_."

Sitting on the edge of his bed and leaning against John, Daria said, "Do they have some kind of psychic connection to our problems?"

"I think we can safely say you are not your grandmother," John replied. "Especially after gym class today. I can't believe you got away with it."

"Good thing Ms. Morris wasn't in the room and that set of cheeks didn't turn as red as the other, once I realized I'd actually done it. Kind of silly, since it's not like any of the girls hadn't seen my ass before."

"True, but when presented in such a style…"

Daria nudged John. "You're just jealous you didn't see it."

"Blame me?"

"I suppose not." Turning serious, Daria said, "What Dad said last night got to you too, didn't it?" 

He held her a little tighter and whispered, "Yeah." 

Ruth pushed the door open and walked in with a tray of chips and dip. "How about a nice snack?"

Daria said, "Grandma, we ate dinner an hour ago."

Ruth set the tray down on the bed. "I don't want you to go hungry." 

"Um, thanks," John said, unconvinced.

Helen stepped into the room. "Ruth, you don't have to."

"Helen, it's no problem. I remember how young people can get hungry." 

Stern, Helen replied, "I meant watching them like a hawk."

"You know what they say about teenage mothers. I don't want Daria to get into that kind of trouble." 

"She and John have been very responsible. It's not like they've been having sex every day after school, or even anything close."

Ruth snapped, "I wouldn't be surprised if they did, what with the way you and Jakey acted like rabbits the first time you were home from college!"

"Ruth!" Helen shouted, more from embarrassment than anger.

"You frightened the dog!"

"That dog was frightened by its own shadow!"

"The way you two carried on was appalling."

"Hey!" John yelled.

Daria said, "We're still here."

Ruth shot back, "Stay out of this."

"You're right, Mom," Jake quietly said, standing in the door wearing his pajamas. "Helen and I were, um, overeager when we were young."

"See!" Ruth triumphantly said to Helen.

Jake smiled proudly at his daughter, "But Daria and John are much better than we were. I've wondered if I'd been a good father, or if we'd been good parents, and then I look at Daria. I don't know how, but we must've done something right. Better than the Old Man did with me. A lot better." 

While Ruth stared in silence, Helen said, "Jake! Is it safe for you to be out of bed?

"I think so," Jake replied.

Daria said, "Um, thanks, Dad."

"Yeah, Jake, that was really cool," John said in agreement.

Ruth said, "Jake, you're fooling yourself; you don't know what teenagers are capable of doing."

Daria replied, "Like you do? Your kids were sent off to boarding schools as teenagers." 

"We thought it would be best for them," was Ruth's weak reply.

"We're doing what we think is best for our children," Helen said.

Trying to reassure, Daria said, "Grandma, your concern wasn't unfounded. It hasn't been easy." 

"Daria and I had to earn that trust," John said, reaching for a handful of chips. "And we haven't always done a good job of it, but we keep trying."

"See, Helen? Even they admit that they haven't done a good job," Ruth said. 

"At least they're honest about it," Helen said. "Teenagers can find a way to do anything they're not supposed to, if they're determined. Jake and I had to accept that even if John lived somewhere else, they would be just as tempted, if not more." 

"They're good kids, Mom," Jake plainly said.

Ruth warily said, "Maybe I was wrong about them." Still trying to grasp a situation very different from what she'd assumed, Ruth noticed John's munching on chips and said, "Though I see that I haven't forgotten everything about raising children."

* * *

"Your grandma's gone home and Jake seems to be his old self, so things are back to as normal as they can be around here."

"Because of my stunt in gym, now I'm called Full Moon Morgendorffer. Things change but the effects remain the same."

Standing next to Daria's writing desk, John picked up a bottle of fingernail polish. "I thought Quinn got all her stuff out of here when she returned to the Temple of Pink."

Scanning her closet, Daria said, "Allegedly, but I'm double-checking to make sure she didn't leave anything behind as a hint to be more fashionable, like that."

"I suppose that's a better explanation than spontaneous generation."

"Oh, it could still be a stray. You wouldn't believe how fast they breed. Quinn brought six bottles when she moved in and took fifteen away. That must be number sixteen."

Setting the bottle down, John said, "Helen and Jake really stood up for us."

Daria stepped back and pushed the closet door shut. "Yeah, but how much do we deserve it? Don't forget Penny catching us."

"Or how we both reacted to Jake's comment about missing the things we've put off for the 'right time.'"

"That was the drugs talking, I think."

"In a way, it made sense."

"It did."

They looked at each other for long moments, feeling desire, and responsibility, and uncertainty. John nervously asked, "So, do we keep waiting, or not?"

After a thoughtful silence, Daria faintly said, "I don't know." 

"Me, either."

Daria crossed the room to hug him and lay her cheek against his shoulder. "I love you." 

"I love you," he gently replied.

"I want to know."

"Me too, so I guess we wait."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

January 2007


	25. Echos of a Relationship

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the twenty-fifth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Echoes of a Relationship**

John leaned over the back of the sofa where Daria was seated, looking over her shoulder at the television On the screen was the image of a killer whale in a courtroom as an announcer said, "Meet the killer whale with a license to practice law. Orca in the Court, tonight on _Sick, Sad World_."

After double-checking the contents, Helen closed the refrigerator door and cleared the dense array of magnet-held paper away from one placed at eye level and centered. She said, "There's plenty to eat in the refrigerator, so you shouldn't need to call out for delivery. I put the hotel's phone number on the door, right were you can find it. Just in case anything happens. Remember, we're with the Making Marriage Magic seminar."

Daria said, "How closely are you defining 'anything happens?' I'm sure a tornado ripping the roof away counts, but what if Quinn gets a hangnail?"

Helen rubbed her eyes. "Daria…use your best judgment."

"Does that mean you're leaving me in charge?"

"Since you're the oldest, yes. Don't let it go to your head."

"I'll try to keep my raging monomania in check."

"Good." 

Entering the house with the rest of the Fashion Club, Quinn heard the last comments. "Daria, ewww. I bet you've already given it to John. We're using paper cups all weekend." 

"That'll save at least one load in the dishwasher," John said.

Jake hurried down the stairs, carrying two suitcases and calling, "Ready for First Aid for the Heart?" 

Helen corrected, "No, it's Making Marriage Magic." 

"Huh?" Jake said at the bottom of the stairs. "I though …oh, magic! Hey, do I get to saw…"

"No, Jake. It's about how to make emotional magic."

"Um, they're not going to make us talk about our feelings again, are they?"

Helen tiredly said, "Yes Jake, they are." 

"Awww."

"Jake…it's for our own good!" she snapped.

"Yes, dear. I'll just take these to the car."

Helen sighed and turned her attention back to Daria and John. "Are you two going to that awful club to see Trent's band?"

John said, "They have a gig in Fremont this weekend. The band playing tonight at the Zon makes Mystik Spiral sound like, um, well, better anyway."

"So, what are you planning to do?"

Daria said, "TV, maybe a little writing."

"Some painting," John said.

"Sacrifice a virgin," Daria added, glancing at Quinn.

Helen dropped her head and rubbed her forehead. "I suppose I should be glad that you believe your sister's a virgin." 

Corralling the rest of the Fashion Club upstairs, Quinn said, "We'll be in my room. Please forward all calls up there. Thank you."

Helen turned to the four girls on the stairs, and then back. "And of course, no parties."

"But Mom," Daria said, "Sometimes, a girl's just gotta dance." 

"All loaded and ready to go," Jake said, reentering the house. "I even remembered the special…"

"That's fine, Jake," Helen rapidly said, turning pink in the cheeks. "Daria, dance all you want, just don't let Quinn invite a herd of teenagers to join you."

"If you insist," Daria agreed.

"Oh, and Daria, John, please be careful." Helen looked and felt uncomfortable saying that.

"Aren't we always?" John said.

Daria gave him a dirty look that said, "You're not helping." She said to her mother, "We promise. And thanks, I know this isn't easy for you."

Helen smiled and said, "Goodbye, have a nice weekend."

Jake cheerfully said, "Yeah, and don't do anything I wouldn't do." 

Helen grabbed Jake's hand and yanked him toward the door. 

Watching the door for a few seconds after it was closed, John said, "I hope we never end up like that. One minute they're chasing each other around like Kevin and Brittany, and the next they're bitching back and forth like…Kevin and Brittany." 

Daria grabbed his shirt and pulled him down. "Never make that comparison again. Under no circumstances can you consider my genetic makeup to be even remotely associated with Kevin and Brittany."

"Yes, dear?"

* * *

Placing perfectly round burgers on a hot skillet, Daria said, "It says something about our society that even when we cook our own burgers, we're too lazy to shape the patties."

Setting an armload of hamburger buns, cheese and assorted condiments on the counter, John said, "That we just love their extruded goodness?"

"Well then, that must be it."

Sorting ingredients, John said, "Okay, we have ketchup, mustard, mayo, two kinds of pickles, onion, lettuce, tomato, and three cheeses."

Daria looked at the ingredients. "Grains in the bread, check. Lettuce, onions, and a nod to Reagan's infamous remark on school lunches, ketchup for vegetables, check. Tomato for fruit, check. Cheese for dairy products and pre-macerated cow flesh for meat, check. A balanced meal."

When the doorbell rang, John said, "My turn to scare the solicitors."

However, when he opened the door, Monique was there. She said, "Hey, John. Can I borrow your key to Trent's place?"

"Um, sure," John said. "But I thought you had one."

"I think I left it in there."

"Ah." John took his keys out and started to remove Trent's apartment key. "What's up?" 

Monique shook her head. "They got pulled over in Fremont and the cops won't let them leave until they pay their ticket. I warned them that town was a speed trap. Trent asked me to get some cash from his place and drive it over to them."

"Trent has money in his place?"

Monique laughed. "Surprised me, too. Maybe he was saving up for something."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Daria around?"

"Kitchen, we're fixing lunch."

Monique waved and yelled, "Hi, Daria! Sorry I can't stay; maybe I'll stop by tomorrow when I get back."

Daria walked to the corner and said, "Hi, Monique."

John explained, "She has to drive to Fremont to bail Trent and the band out of jail."

Daria said, "Ouch. Good luck."

"Thanks. Anyway, I better get going; it's a long drive and Trent said that Max wasn't taking it well."

"See you later," John said and closed the door after she left. He asked, "So, would you drive a hundred miles to bail me out of jail?"

Teasing, she said, "Ever hear of Western Union?"

Walking back, he said, "Money probably would get there faster than someone in the blue bomb."

Daria poked her head back around the corner. "Correction, the money would get there, period."

"Hmmm. Good point."

* * *

Daria tied the sash of her maroon, terrycloth robe and leaned toward the fogged mirror to brush her damp hair. She faintly smiled and said, "Glad I got to the shower before the Four Amigas used all the hot water and clean towels."

After a couple minutes of carefully untangling her hair, Daria put the brush down and picked up her glasses. Like the mirror, the lenses were fogged. She placed them in one robe pocket and said, "Oh well, have to wait until I get back to my room."

Opening the door, she was startled by Tiffany inches away, hand raised to knock.

Tiffany blinked and moved her head forward, slowly saying, "You have such pretty eyes."

"Um, thanks," Daria mumbled, unprepared for the compliment.

"You're welcome. Are you done in the shower?"

"Yes."

"Good, because I have to go."

Moving past, Daria said, "Please, don't let me stand in your way."

"Thank you," Tiffany said, stepping inside before closing the door.

When she was close to it, Daria saw that Quinn's room was open. "The top-secret summit must be over."

Sandi walked out and paused for a moment, looking at Daria. "You know, that John boy you're dating would probably think you look good in contacts." 

"Um, okay. I'll take it under advisement."

"Just a suggestion," Sandi said while going past. Daria could hear her mutter, "How does Tiffany always get the bathroom first?" 

Daria was grateful that Quinn and Stacy were absorbed in reading a magazine, enabling her to complete the trip to her room undisturbed. She pulled a tissue from a box on the shelf and cleaned the fog from her glasses before putting them back on. "Ah, better."

About twenty minutes later, John, wide-eyed, stuck his head in the door. "Must…get…out…of…house…before…commit…crimes…against…humanity." 

Looking up from her writing, Daria said, "Wow, you now consider the Fashion Club to be part of humanity?"

John blinked and shook his head. "Only humans can be that brutal." 

"What happened?"

"They decided that a male viewpoint was needed, knocked on my door, and then herded me down the hall to look at makeup base tones. I didn't think it was possible to make so many oh-so-slightly different skin tones." 

"So tell me, Mr. Bond, how did you escape?"

"I regret to inform you that I had to resort to chemical warfare." 

"In that case, getting you outside is a good idea."

* * *

Lying on the trunk of Trent's old blue car with their heads propped on the rear window, Daria and John watched dark clouds drifting in front of the evening's stars. John looked to the side and after watching for a couple moments, said, "Cool, the clouds are reflected on your glasses. I'll have to remember that for a painting."

"Funny you should mention my glasses," Daria said. "My glasses were fogged up from my shower, so I wasn't wearing them when I ran into Sandi. She made a comment that you would like how I looked with contacts."

He rolled and looked into her face. "I like the way your glasses magnify your eyes."

"Another weird thing was that I also ran into Tiffany, who said I have pretty eyes."

"You do; that's why I like to see them magnified."

"Tiffany said it like she was noticing for the first time."

"Bet she was. Didn't you tell me that a lot of people never look past the glasses?"

"Hmm, yeah, but not that literally. But now that I think about it, popular people tend not to see or notice unpopular people, so it's probably the same effect."

"I wonder if that's anything like the way I phase out during math class and not notice what's going on."

"I wish you would be a more careful about that," Daria said with genuine concern. "I hope your straight 'C' average doesn't end up biting you."

"Art schools are more impressed by a killer portfolio than a killer transcript."

"I suppose, but I still wish you'd be a little more careful, just in case."

Not wanting to talk about it, John said, "I'll work on it some, tomorrow." 

With a sigh, Daria said, "It's a start."

* * *

The damp morning chill felt refreshing as John jogged along the sidewalk, head bobbing in time with the music from his portable tape player and headphones. Intent on the run and music, it wasn't until the third honk that John noticed Trent driving beside him in the Tank. Trent leaned over and said through the open window, "Hop in."

Concerned by his brother's drained appearance, John slowed to a walk and then got into the van. "Looks like Monique bailed you out, so what's going on?"

Driving off down the street, Trent said, "We broke up."

"So, what else is new?"

"No, um, I don't think we'll get back together, this time."

"Oh." After several seconds of silence, John asked, "I'm guessing that you want to talk about it."

"Yeah." 

Following another period of silence, John said, "Well?" 

"She's a musician; I thought she understood." 

"Understood…what?"

"That you've got to focus on your music. Not let other stuff distract you."

"I kinda know the feeling."

* * *

Yawning, Daria opened the front door. "Oh, Monique. I wasn't expecting you so…early."

Shoulders low, Monique said, "Sorry, bad night."

"Come in. Want some coffee?" 

Following Daria to the kitchen, Monique said, "Please." 

Daria poured a cup and took it to the table, setting it next to the dark-haired woman. Monique started spooning sugar into the coffee. "Thanks."

Watching the growing number of spoonfuls, Daria sat down and asked, "Like a little coffee with your sugar?"

"I like extra-sweet coffee when I'm depressed."

"Okay…"

"Sorry, me and Trent broke up last night. Permanently."

"Was he in jail for something other than speeding?"

"Nah, it's just that he blew off the whole thing as nothing important. That hundred was his entire savings, and flushing it for a stupid speeding ticket didn't even bother him."

Daria nodded. "Yeah, he seems a little irresponsible with money."

After a long drink, Monique said, "Trent just doesn't seem to get the idea that he needs more than just talent to make it." 

Agreeing, Daria said, "And it's not like you haven't tried to tell him that he needs more than art."

"Yeah, and when I tried again last night, he just made a nasty remark that The Harpies was a good name for my band."

"I suppose that is worse than putting off the conversation for later." 

"Oh, he's done that plenty of times. Sounds like you know what I'm talking about."

* * *

"Good luck, Trent," John said as his brother drove away. Stretching his back while walking to the house, he muttered, "Why did I let him talk me into helping him unload the van?"

Thirsty, John went straight to the kitchen and found Daria still seated at the dinner table. She said, "You took a long run this morning."

"Ran into Trent and we drove around town, talking. He broke up with Monique and was bummed about it."

"Yeah, I heard." 

"Huh?" John said, opening a can of soda.

"Monique stopped by and we talked. Trent really screwed up this time, didn't he?"

"Maybe a little, but so did Monique." 

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You can't keep harping on someone and expect them to put up with it forever."

"You also can't keep ignoring someone who's trying to help you succeed."

Almost sounding like Trent, he said, "You can if you think their plan distracts you from your vision."

"Wishful thinking isn't a vision. You can't just picture your goal; you have to have a plan." 

"That's right, and you don't need distractions from your plan, like studying for more math than you'll ever need or use." 

Daria's eyes flared in frustration. "As if you already know how much you need to know about math for your entire life." 

Irritated, he grumbled, "Look, it's just not as big of a deal for me, okay?"

"No, it's not okay," Daria barked in return.

* * *

Sleepy, Quinn asked, "What in the world is all that noise? Are Mom and Dad home early?" as she walked down the stairs.

John yelled, "Just because I don't meet your standards of academic excellence…"

"I'm not trying to get you to meet my standards!" Daria retorted, her voice rising to a surprising volume.

"No, you just rag on me if my grades aren't as good as yours. Here's a hint; I'm not as smart as you are!" 

"This has nothing to do with your intelligence," she snapped.

"Fine! Then I guess I'm just plain lazy!" 

"You said it."

"That's what you meant, which is great, coming from someone who does everything that she can to avoid gym class!"

"Studying would be a much better use of my time than bouncing around playing stupid games!" 

Quinn cautiously said, "Daria? John?"

Daria said, "It's none of your business."

John added, "Just don't ask. Screw it; I'm going to my room."

After John stomped past Quinn, she went to her sister. "Daria, what happened?"

She growled, "I said, none of your business. I think I'll go to my room."

Left alone in the living room, Quinn looked upwards and said, "Oh, boy."

* * *

John slashed an orange streak across a canvas. "Dammit!"

He dropped the brush in a rinse cup and stepped away from the easel, anger and a queasy stomach breaking his concentration. John fell onto the bed face-first and pulled the pillow over his head. He rolled over and threw the pillow across the room. "Crap."

"How could she say that? I do okay in math, not great, but okay. I want to be an artist, not an accountant. Miss 'I'm too smart to work out in gym class.' What a crock."

He turned on his TV and started to flip through channels, barely stopping long enough at each for an image to form. "She's at it all the time, nagging and pushing me. I can see why Trent kept getting so pissed off at Monique, if she acted the same way."

Unhappy, he turned the TV off and lightly tossed the remote onto his dresser before going to the window. "I wish I could get her to exercise more."

* * *

In her room at the other end of the hallway, Daria wadded a sheet of paper and threw it into a waste can. Her mind raced in frustration. "Can't he just see how much he's hurting himself? Dammit, he won't accept anything less than perfect in his art, but when it comes to math, he'll accept anything that barely gets by."

She rolled her chair back and went to the bed, sitting down with her arms tersely folded over her chest. "Nagging, that's a load of crap, as if he doesn't nag me about not being in as good of physical shape."

She picked up her TV remote, looked at it for several seconds and put it back on the floor. "So I can't run a lap around the track, big freaking deal. It's not like I'm going to need to run as a writer."

* * *

Seductively laughing, Helen said, "I have a few ideas for some magic tonight," as she and Jake walked from the car to the house. 

Carrying the luggage, Jake grinned and said, "You can cast your spell on me anytime you want."

As soon as they stepped inside, Quinn stood from the sofa, exclaiming, "Thank God you're finally home!"

"Oh my God! What's wrong?" Helen asked.

"Daria! Where's Daria?" Jake shouted. "Where's John?"

"I mean, it's bad enough when you and Dad have your fights, but do I have to put up with it from Daria and John? I can only endure so much."

"They had a fight?" Jake said, dropping the suitcases. One onto his foot. "Oww!" he cried as he hopped away on one foot, holding the other.

Helen rubbed her forehead. "Do you know what they were fighting about?"

"Something about school and grades and lazy bouncing in gym class, it was very confusing. I think they've gone mad."

"Oh my," Helen said. "That doesn't sound like them."

"Trust me, it was them. I can't think of how they could've been more embarrassing. Well, I can think of one thing, but…"

"Helen! I think I broke my toe!" Jake yelled while dropping onto a sofa. 

"…okay, two things," Quinn corrected. "What are you going to do about it, Mom? Do you know how embarrassing they'll be if they keep this up at school tomorrow?"

Walking quickly to the kitchen, she said, "First, I'm going to get some ice for your father's foot. Then, I'm going to talk to Daria and John. Where are they?"

"They're in their rooms, painting and writing."

"In other words, they're sulking and making matters worse."

"Kind of like you and Dad?"

Helen returned and thrust a freezer bag of ice into Quinn's hands. "Give that to your father to put on his foot, and if you're smart, you won't say another word."

* * *

Helen knocked on her daughter's door and slowly opened it. "Daria?"

Seated at her desk and staring at a blank page, Daria answered, "I suppose that the Morgendorffer Evening Herald has reported the news." 

"You and John had a fight, so both of you are sulking. Care to fill in the details?"

"Trent and Monique broke up yesterday."

"That's too bad. Let me guess, you and John were pulled into the fight."

"Not directly, but um, yeah. I agreed with Monique that Trent was too lazy in his planning, and John went along with Trent that Monique didn't understand his creative nature and was nagging too much." 

Helen nodded and waited a couple seconds before saying, "So, what lazy behavior have you been nagging John about?"

"Well, that after his art, he doesn't take math as seriously as…hey, how did you know?"

Helen's voice, while nurturing and motherly, was also sad. "I've been there. It happens more often than you think. Tell me, what has he been nagging you about?" 

"Um, getting more exercise."

"Uh-huh. They don't sound like insurmountable problems."

"And now, you're going to tell me how to make up with him and everything will be better."

Helen sat on the bed with her hands folded on her lap. "No, Daria. If I knew that secret, life with your father would be a lot easier."

"Now that's encouraging."

"It's honest."

"Then maybe we should just give up now."

"That is always an option."

"What?"

"That's always an option. The other is to work things out, like your father and me."

Looking at the floor, Daria carefully asked, "Why haven't you and Dad used that, um, other option?" 

"For the reason we go on those marriage retreats. We may not know the best way to deal with things, but we're still willing to learn."

"Oh."

"Sweetie, perfect couples don't exist. All, and I mean all, will argue from time to time. Let me tell you, nobody can make you angrier or hurt you more than someone you love. That's what makes the fights so bad. Afterward, every couple has to find a way to make things work again. Some do that much better than others." Helen sighed, "Your father and I are still working on the better part."

"That helps, but I still don't really understand why."

"We keep trying because we love each other and think it's worth it." 

Daria snorted, "So all you need is love."

Helen slid across the bed and then crouched next to Daria to hold her daughter's hands. "No, Sweetie. Love is the first step."

* * *

Glad for the distraction, but sincerely concerned, John said, "What happened to your foot?"

Jake shrugged and limped into the room. "Stupid accident. Really stupid accident!"

"You didn't come up here just to rant about your foot, did you?" 

"What? Oh, no, no. Sorry, just a little upset." Jake sat next to John on the bed and tilted his foot toward the teen. "I don't think toes are supposed to turn that shade of purple." 

"Looks like it's broken."

"That's what I said! Better see a doctor."

"Don't bother; they'll just tape it up to the next toe and send you on your way. Broken toes get no respect, and you won't get any sympathy." 

"Dammit!"

"I thought you didn't want to rant."

Jake calmed somewhat. "Um, no." 

"Let me guess, it's the double team maneuver. You're here to talk to me about the fight and Helen's talking to Daria." 

"Um, not exactly. Helen's with Daria, but she doesn't know I'm here. The toe thing."

"Gotcha. So, do you have any sage advice on relationships? Parsley or rosemary will do in a pinch."

"Well, they did have all these nifty ideas at the seminar. You could try some role play…" Jake blushed and then said, "Um, maybe not that."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear whatever you didn't say."

"Thanks! Now, where was I? Oh yeah, you might want to try…um, not that either. Wait, they had this great idea that uses…darn!" 

"That seminar was mostly about sex, wasn't it?" 

"Not really, but I kind of lost track of the other stuff. I wish I hadn't; then maybe I could've helped you." 

John leaned forward, resting elbows on knees. "I know I messed up, but I also know that I was right. I should work harder on math; I certainly don't want to end up like Trent. But Daria nags so much that I dig in and resist. If she'd back off, I'd probably try harder." John sat up straight as he made a mental connection. "Damn. I bet I'm ragging her too much about exercise. Um, Jake, what do you do when you know that you've screwed up?"

"You mean, after I've blamed my old man?"

"Yeah." 

Meek, Jake said, "Tell Helen I'm sorry."

"What about if you were right about something, too?"

"She figures that out and apologizes."

"So your basic plan is to say you're sorry and hope she does, too?"

Jake nodded.

John asked, "Outside of things I'm sure you don't want to tell me and I don't want to hear, what do you two get out of those marriage seminars?"

"We try new things."

"Do they help?"

"No, we always go back to what we've done before."

"Then why go?"

"It makes Helen happy."

"Even though you don't like those seminars?"

Sighing, and then putting his arm on John's shoulder, Jake explained, "I know I'm not the best husband or father, but somehow I'm lucky enough to have a wonderful wife and family that mean the world to me. So, if going to those seminars and trying new things makes Helen happy and keeps us all together, I'll do it."

John gazed down. "Um, thanks Jake."

"Any time."

"Come to think of it, maybe you better have a doctor look at that toe. It's turning green."

"Green!" Jake yelled in a panic.

In Daria's room, Helen turned to face the sound. "Oh my, your father must've gone to talk to John."

Daria asked, "But why would he yell, 'green'?"

Mother and daughter faced each other, sighed and rested their faces in their hands.

* * *

Quinn twisted around on the sofa and rested her arms on the back to face her parents coming down the stairs, with Helen bracing Jake. Quinn asked, "Have they made up?"

"Not yet," Helen said. "But I think they're on their way."

"How's Dad?"

"I'm okay," Jake said, trying to sound cheerful. "Just taking a little trip to the hospital. You never know what kind of complications you can get."

"You're leaving me alone with those two?"

Reassuring, Helen said, "I'm pretty sure that they'll make up, so you won't need to worry about any fighting."

Quinn sighed dramatically and said, "And when they make up, they're going to act all lovey-dovey." She shivered for extra effect.

Stopping to open the door, Helen said, "All the more reason for you to stay; to help them avoid temptation."

Quinn folded her arms and turned in a mild huff. "How about if I just throw a bucket of cold water on them?"

"If you must," Helen said. "We'll be back as soon as we can."

* * *

John softly knocked on Daria's door, and after a few moments, she opened it. He said, "Um, hi."

"Hi."

"We had our first nasty fight. Does this mean we're in the big leagues?" 

"Or added a new level to our relationship?" 

Shuffling his feet nervously, John said, "Daria…maybe Monique had a point about Trent, and, uh, you had a point about me." 

"You, too. Look, think we could compromise and stuff? I'll try to exercise more."

"I'll work on my math." 

"That wasn't so hard."

"No, not really."

Daria stepped back and motioned John to step further into the room. "The gut-wrenching agony leading up to this was the hard part."

They crossed the room and sat next to each other on the bed. John said, "It's scary how easy that happened, and over stuff we should've been able to talk about." 

Hunched over and arms folded in her lap, Daria said, "You know that most teen relationships don't last."

Head down, John said, "Yeah. Hell, it seems like most adult relationships don't last. The only one I can think of in my family is Mom and Dad…and they spend more time apart than together." 

"I guess it says something that my Mom and Dad keep going to those workshops and counselors. At least they're trying." 

"Do you think we can buck the trend?"

"I don't know. What about you?"

"Don't know, either. I wonder how people do know. I mean, know that someone is right for them."

Daria stood, walked to a window and gazed past the cutoff bars. "Does anyone? Look at all the messed-up relationships out there. Maybe it's all a delusion."

John joined her at the window, tentatively placing his arm around her waist. "Maybe, and maybe everything's a delusion." Feeling no resistance, he gently held Daria closer. "I think I'll take the gamble, anyway. Even a delusion is better than what I had before."

Daria's arm moved around John's waist and she looked up at his face. "I think this is supposed to be one of the moments where we talk about how much we've learned." 

"Let's not and say we did."

Daria faintly smiled. "Works for me."

They gently kissed, first a brief touch, then a longer and more caring kiss as they moved into an embrace. John whispered, "I have to admit, I like the making up part."

"I'm not complaining," Daria whispered in reply.

* * *

When Daria and John went downstairs, they were greeted by Quinn pointing to a plastic pail on the coffee table. "Don't make me use it!" 

Daria slowly asked, "Why is there a bucket of water on the table?"

"Mom said I could, if I have to," Quinn explained. "I know you two are going to have that 'we're so happy to be back together' thing going, just don't display it like Mom and Dad. Okay?"

John chuckled and said, "I think a cold bucket of water would've done more good when I was mad." 

"I've never seen you two like that," Quinn said. "It was really kind of scary because I thought you were different."

"Sorry to bring you down to Earth, Quinn, but I guess we're human after all," Daria said.

Quinn nodded. "I see."

"Looks like your dad left the luggage down here," John said, pointing to the suitcases. "I'll take them upstairs, kind of a thank you."

Quinn said, "Mom and Dad's help actually worked?"

"In its own way," John said. "I'll be right back." He picked up both suitcases and trotted up the stairs.

Lowering her voice, Quinn asked Daria, "If you made up, why aren't you two all making out and stuff?"

Daria took a seat on one of the other sofa sections. "Feeling humbled after all this wasn't exactly a turn-on. We kissed and just held each other for a while. That's what felt right. In that way, we are different from Mom and Dad, or Trent and Monique."

"Or Kevin and Brittany?"

"Quinn…" Daria warned.

"Just joking, Daria," Quinn said.

"Okay, you got me." 

Trying to open the bedroom door, John noticed that Helen's suitcase wasn't closed properly; possibly knocked loose when Jake dropped it. "Just hold on a couple more seconds," he told the luggage.

Just before reaching the bed, his plea went unanswered as Helen's suitcase opened. John quickly lowered the suitcase and pushed the handled side down against the other to prevent most of the contents from spilling. Grabbing things as fast as he could, John stuffed things back into the suitcase, stopping when he realized that he held a purple, cat-like mask and body suit. Wide-eyed in realization, he finished the job in a panic, snapped the latches closed and then tossed both suitcases onto the bed. On the way out of the room, he muttered, "Dear God, please never let me find out that Jake has a Batman costume."

Seeing her sister's continued discomfort, Daria said, "You were worried." 

Quinn nodded her head. "Yeah. Being with John has been really good for you. I wouldn't want you to go back to the way you were before leaving Highland."

"I'll admit that I prefer my current situation to what I experienced in that wretched town."

"So you two aren't going to fight anymore?" 

Daria slowly shook her head. "I'm sure we will, because it seems to be a part of the whole togetherness/relationship thing." 

"But you're going to keep going, right?"

"We want to, but I don't know where we'll end up. Mom and Dad keep coming back together, even when Trent and Monique couldn't. I can't tell why there's a difference, and nobody else seems to be able to tell me, either."

Sad, Quinn barely said, "Oh." 

Coming down the stairs, John said, "Where's that bucket? I need to wash that out of my eyes."

"What?" Daria asked, suddenly worried.

John jogged to the table and stuck his face in the water, rubbing his eyes while Daria and Quinn looked on in curious confusion. When he looked up, John said, "You really don't want to know, but after I'm done here, I'm getting rid of part of my comic collection."

* * *

Waiting until Daria shut the car off, John looked at the door of Trent's apartment and asked, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Not really," Daria replied. "But I somehow feel that we owe them."

John got out and then leaned into the open window. "Meet you at the Green in about an hour?"

"If it takes that long," Daria said. "Good luck."

"You, too."

After Daria pulled away, John went to Trent's door and knocked. After the third attempt, his brother opened the door. "Huh?"

"Sorry to wake you, Trent." 

Trent shrugged. "Hey, it had to happen sooner or later," as he shuffled to the tiny kitchen alcove. "Want some soda?" 

John followed him. "I'm good. Look, Daria and I were wondering if things between you and Monique…were repairable." 

Trent shook his head while opening a soda from the mostly bare refrigerator. "Nah, but thanks for asking."

"That's too bad."

Trent pushed some clutter on the dinette table out of the way and motioned for John to sit. "Probably for the best, we weren't right for each other. Just too stubborn to say it." 

"But, you did see something; that's why you kept trying."

"Monique's not bad and we had a lot of fun, but we didn't have the same vision."

"No chance of compromise, huh?"

"I don't compromise when it comes to my vision."

"I see."

"I knew you would." Trent took a long drink from the soda can and then said, "Thanks for coming over. The band's been kind of staying away and it's good to talk to someone about it."

"Hey, you're my brother."

* * *

"Hey Daria, come on in," Monique said while opening the door of her apartment. The small place was simply but neatly furnished. Monique's fascination with music was confirmed by a row of guitars on stands at one end of the living room. She said, "I can nuke some water for tea."

"Thanks, but I'm not that thirsty." 

"Have a seat," Monique said while motioning to the sofa. They sat down and then Monique said, "You have that 'I want to talk' look. What's up?"

"John and I were talking, and wondered about the chances of you and Trent trying again."

"No, that story's over. It's not like we didn't try; it's just that we couldn't make it work."

"Doesn't hurt to ask."

"Don't get me wrong; Trent's a nice guy. Easy-going, nonjudgmental, and actually sweet when you get to know him. But, we couldn't get over our differences. He has to go his way, and I have to go mine."

"Do you regret it?" 

"Being with Trent? Nah, we had a lot of fun together. Breaking up? Some, but that's the way things go at times." Monique leaned over and gave Daria a hug. "Thanks for coming over. It's good to have someone to talk to."

"What about the rest of the Harpies?"

"They're my bandmates, you're my friend."

"Um, thanks."

* * *

In the middle of the village green, John was seated at the base of a statue representing a Civil War general whose name was as long-forgotten as the missing plaque. When he saw Daria stop the car along the curb, he stood, stretched and walked over to her. He asked, "How'd it go?"

"Monique's not interested. How about Trent?" 

"The same."

John walked around and got into the passenger seat. "Well, we tried."

"So did Trent and Monique. But finally, they were realistic enough to know it wouldn't work."

"Yeah. But I was thinking your parents are also being realistic to keep things going. Does that make sense?"

Daria reached over and grasped John's hand. "Yeah, it does."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

Some dialog from _Speedtrapped_ by Sam Johnson and Chris Marcil

March 2007


	26. Neptune et Fortuna

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the twenty-sixth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

_**Neptune et Fortuna**_

In the _Lawndale Lowdown_ workroom, Jodie approached Daria and John sitting at a table and said, "Let's get the rejection out of the way early. Casino Night is going to be on the _Princess Fairy_ luxury liner this weekend. Is there even a tiny little chance that you two will buy tickets?"

Looking up from his drawing, John said, "A field trip to learn gambling; that's impressive." 

Daria said, "John, you need to think of it as school sponsored opportunity to gain real-world knowledge of probability and chance."

"Oh, in that case, it makes me feel proud to attend such a forward-looking school," John added.

Jodie shook her head. "You guys."

Daria said, "There's a _Sick, Sad World_ marathon Friday night. We're probably going to be too wiped-out on Saturday to do much more than sleep." 

John tapped his pencil on the table for a couple seconds while thinking. He then asked, "Does this 'luxury liner' have those comfy deck chairs?"

Jodie looked at a pamphlet in her hand. "Um…the promo photos have them, why?"

John turned to Daria. "We can catch some z's on the deck chairs while everyone else is inside."

"I'd rather sleep in my bed," Daria said. "Why go to the effort of leaving home?" 

"Because we can score some major points with your parents by giving them a night alone…"

Daria faintly smiled. "…without them having to worry about us since we'll be under the so-called adult supervision of a school event. I like the way you think."

Jodie looked hopeful. "So, you are interested?"

Daria took a small wallet from her pocket. "Give us two."

Jodie quickly took the money before Daria could change her mind. "Thanks."

John said, "Just remember, if anyone wakes us up, they're going overboard." 

Walking away, Jodie said, "Please toss them a life preserver, okay?"

* * *

Feet propped up on the coffee table, Daria and John sat side by side relaxing after school. On the television were crowds fleeing from some old monster movie while an announcer said, "Run for your lives! The sickest, saddest twelve hours on television are coming to you this Friday! The _Sick, Sad World Marathon_, starting at 8:00 PM Eastern and 7:00 Central."

Jake came in through the front door and saw them. "Hey, kiddo! Hey, John! What's up?" 

Daria held up the event tickets and waved them. "We're going to the school's Casino Night this Saturday. For your information, Section 34-C, Paragraph 12 of the Fashion Club Bylaws requires Quinn's attendance. Therefore, it looks like you and Mom will have a nice, quiet evening to yourselves."

John said, "All of the school faculty will be there, plus some parents, so you don't need to worry about supervision."

A silly grin formed on Jake's face. "That's great, kids! Your Mom and I will really appreciate it. If you need a big favor, just let us know!"

Jake changed course and headed up the stairs instead of the kitchen. Daria looked to John and said, "Now we have a nice marker to call in, but do me one favor."

"Yes?" 

"Make sure we don't get home too early…"

* * *

Without pausing, Quinn pushed John's door open and walked in to find Daria prone on the bed reading a book and John at his easel, painting a group of penguins jumping off of a sinking iceberg while the _Titanic_ steamed away in the background. Quinn said, "You already told Mom and Dad about the cruise? They're not going to be chaperones, are they? I would just die if they are."

"Don't worry, Quinn," Daria said. "Our position on parental chaperones at school events has not changed. They're staying home for some…private time."

"Eww, Daria, how can you encourage them?" Quinn said.

Daria replied, "So that they wouldn't be tempted to chaperone, especially when they find out that Casino Night is on that alleged cruise ship."

Quinn snapped back, "It's a luxury liner."

John said, "Daria looked the ship's registry up online. It's a converted fishing trawler."

"Ewww!"

"I'm sure that they hosed it off before adding the casino," Daria said. "Seriously, it probably has a fancy veneer, but you wouldn't want to look too far below the surface."

"Oh, well, that's not a problem," Quinn said. "So, other than Ms. Li making it mandatory earlier today, why are you going?"

John said, "Like Daria said, it'll give your parents a worry-free night to themselves."

Quinn's face twisted in disgust. "Ewww, John! Do you know what they'll do if you leave them alone?"

"I have a basic idea and dearly hope I never learn the details, but they'll appreciate it."

The disgust on Quinn's face turned to surprise and respect. "Oh, oh, that's good. I see what you're up to. Like in that game, Monopoly, a get out of jail free card."

"That's the idea," Daria said.

"Are you two planning something?" 

Daria emphatically said, "No. But it never hurts to have a backup."

Quinn nodded her head as she processed the information. She looked from Daria to John and back again. "Okay, now I know why, but you don't dress up, you don't dance and I don't think you'll play the games. What do you plan to do all night?" 

John said, "Find some deck chairs and sleep." 

"That's it?"

"Yep."

"Come on, you've got to do something! Everyone's getting chips to play with, at least do something with them."

"I'll put it all on one number at the roulette wheel. Odds are I'll lose it all right away, or even in the slim chance I win the first, will lose the second spin." Daria shrugged and said, "Gambling over." 

Quinn said, "What about poker? You have a great poker face, and I'm sure you know all the odds and ends thingies about the hands."

"Yeah, but poker requires me to sit at the same table as the other players…not a situation I want to pursue," Daria said while slowly shaking her head. "Nor would anybody who knows me well."

Quinn decided to try one more tactic. "You can use it for your writing. Isn't playing cards one of those spy skills that the Bond-girl you write about, Melody, supposed to have?"

Daria glared at Quinn and said, "Melody is NOT a Bond girl."

"Whatever. Look, she's a spy; aren't spies supposed to be good card players?"

"Quinn, I don't need to use "Method Writing;" I can research what I need to know and work from that. I don't need to play cards to write about it."

"Quinn, I seriously suggest you make a hasty retreat before you dig yourself in any deeper," John said. 

Quinn noticed the look on Daria's face and started backing away. "Um, okay. Look, just think about it and have a little fun, okay?"

Daria said, "I'll take it under advisement."

* * *

The TV announcer said, "Her amputee boyfriend was cheating so she stole his prosthesis, but he kept right on hopping into strange beds. The one-legged lothario! Next, on _Sick, Sad World_."

Daria pointed the remote at the TV to mute the coming commercial. "Wouldn't it make more sense to wear the stupid thing instead of putting it on display like a hunting trophy?"

Lounging on the sofa with Daria, John said, "With one leg, maybe it's the only thing he could catch."

"He seems to be catching plenty of bimbos."

"Eh, I think it's more like baiting than chasing."

"From the sounds of it, bait and switch." 

Helen walked into the living room and sat on one of the other sofa sections. "Are you two planning to stay up all night watching that show?"

"All night, or until our brains crawl out of our ears to flee," Daria said.

Helen faintly smiled and shook her head at Daria's imagery. "You won't have much energy for the cruise tomorrow night."

John said, "We'll have enough to get onboard and find some nice lounge chairs."

Sighing, Helen said, "I should've known, but I was hoping that you were going to indulge in a little more active participation with your classmates."

"Mom, you know that the odds are stacked against the gambler. We don't need the lesson, but we'll gladly lie around and watch our classmates learn."

"It's more than just the odds, Daria. It's also about reading people. That'll bring you more success than just calculating the odds."

Daria raised her eyebrow. "A little previously unspoken personal background you're willing to share?"

"Let's just say that the same skills work very well for a lawyer."

John said, "That explains a lot about our legal system."

Helen glanced at him. "Yes, it does." To both, she then said, "I know you have plans for yourselves. However, an evening cruise is a nice opportunity to be romantic; I hope you don't miss the chance entirely."

"As long as we don't get too romantic…" Daria was cut off by Jake saying, "A cruise? They're going on a cruise?"

Helen turned to the kitchen. "Yes, dear." 

"I thought that they were going to Casino Night at the school."

"They are, but it's not at the school; it's on the _Princess Fairy_.

Jake's eyes lit up. "The _Princess Fairy_? I heard that they're looking for a new advertising campaign. Hey kids, are you sure that they don't need extra chaperones?"

"No!" Daria and John said together.

Jake's face dropped. "Aww. I was hoping to slip a pitch by the owner."

Helen went to him. "Jake, we have a special evening planned, remember?"

"Yeah. But…"

"No buts, Jake." Helen's voice became a little stern. "We have a special night planned."

John whispered to Daria, "We better do something before this blows up and we lose that marker."

Daria swallowed and whispered back, "Forgive me." Out loud, she said to Jake, "Dad, I'll see what I can do about dropping a few hints to the owner. He'll never expect that he's being pitched by a high school student." 

"Kiddo!" Jake rushed over and hugged Daria. "You're the greatest!"

* * *

A woman being interviewed on _Sick, Sad World_ said, "I didn't mean to hurt him."

Sleepily, John said, "I was only trying to kill a mosquito…"

"…with a butcher knife," Daria said, also groggy.

Robe pulled over her nightgown, Helen walked behind the teens. "Still at it I see."

"It's almost more fun than we can stand," Daria said.

Helen placed a blanket on the sofa back. "In case you fall asleep anyway."

John asked, "If we fall asleep, how will we use the blanket?"

Helen patted it and said, "I'm sure you won't fall asleep at the same time."

"Isn't a blanket being awfully trusting?" Daria said.

"You'll be more comfortable, sweetie, and I seriously doubt if you'll do anything out here where one of us could walk in on you. Good night." 

Daria said, "Thanks. Good night."

"Night," John said.

After they heard Helen close the bedroom door, John picked up the blanket and unfolded it. "Now that I think about it, this might be comfortable."

Daria pulled one side over her and said, "Hmm, I think you're right."

* * *

The living room was lit only by the TV when Quinn came home and heard, "Braised in a little rosewater, a heart is one of the best ways to tell someone that you love them."

Quinn looked closely at the TV and said, "Ewww, how can you watch that?"

When John and Daria didn't reply, Quinn quietly went to the sofa where they were peacefully asleep in each other's arms. "You are such late-night lightweights." Quinn lifted Daria's glasses from her face, folded them and placed them on the coffee table. She then straightened the blanket over the couple and stepped back with a smile. "It's a good thing people don't see you like this, Daria, or my status as the cute sister would be in trouble."

"Hrmmm?" Daria murmured.

"Sleep tight," Quinn said before heading for the stairs. "Your secret's safe with me."

* * *

Eyes closed, John let the last of his dream linger, that of holding Daria close. He even felt the light tickle of her hair against his nose.

A voice on the TV said, "Fergit black choppers, them's just decoys. The ones ya gotta worry 'bout look like all them others…like the sheriff or the TV news."

John opened his eyes to look at the television. A man with a buzz cut, wearing mirrored shades and a camouflage tank top was being interviewed. The reporter asked, "And what is their nefarious plan?"

"They's snoopin' on us and sprayin' us wit' mind-control chemicals, saying it's bug control. Once everthin's ready, they's gonna take over. Only a few of us is ready to fight."

Daria faintly sighed and shifted her position against him, making John realize that he hadn't been entirely dreaming.

He turned and brushed hair away from her face. "Good morning."

Daria jerked back momentarily. "Huh?"

"Good morning." 

"Oh, um, yeah. Sorry, you startled me."

"Hmm, now that we've slept together, does that mean that our relationship has moved onto another level?"

Daria groaned, "Smartass. Now, where are my glasses?"

"On the table," John said, leaning forward for them.

"Thanks. I don't remember taking them off."

Handing the glasses to Daria, he said, "I didn't; you must've."

She put the glasses on. "Are you sure, because I don't remember." 

John shrugged. "Eh, it had to be one of us."

"I guess you're right."

John swept the blanket to one side. "I'm a little hungry. Do you want some breakfast while we finish up the last hour?"

"Sure, why not?"

* * *

"Wrecks?" John teasingly said to Quinn. "I hope that isn't a good description of how he drives a car."

"His name is Rex. R - E - X," Quinn corrected.

Daria said, "Oh, like in _Tyrannosaurus_. In that case, he may have a chance to survive the evening."

"Like in king. God, Daria, I thought you knew that," Quinn replied in mild surprise.

Daria allowed a brief smirk. Teasing her sister about the ornate gown she was wearing she said, "It certainly looks like you dressed up to impress one."

"Thanks Daria, I didn't think you'd notice."

"Forget princes," John said, "Kings are the ones with real money and power."

Quinn beamed. "That's right! Always set your sights high." Commenting on the everyday clothes Daria and John were wearing, she said, "You know, it wouldn't hurt you two to dress up a bit. Not too much, mind you; you don't have the experience to pull it off all night, but just a little."

Daria yawned and John said, "We don't like to sleep in our good clothes. I hope you can understand." 

"You are sooo hopeless."

Daria said, "Yes, and we're the best at what we do."

* * *

Helen and Jake stood in the front door, waving. Helen said, "Have fun, kids." 

Going to the old blue car, Daria said, "Um, you too." 

"Thanks, Daria, we will," Jake excitedly said. 

John asked, "When do you want us home?"

Helen said, "The cruise lasts until 11:00, so make it midnight." 

"Maybe a little after, don't hurry," Jake added. 

Getting into the car, Daria said, "Midnight at the earliest, gotcha."

Daria backed the car down the driveway. As she drove away from the house, John said, "I hope that they remember midnight. I don't want any surprises."

* * *

Parking the car, Daria looked through the window at the _Princess Fairy_ docked along the bay front. "Doesn't look like the _Titanic_, but it does have an _Andrea Doria_ feel."

"Both of those hit something. I was hoping for more along the lines of the _Lusitania_: torpedoes and allegations of illegal munitions exploding, who could ask for more?"

"I wonder if we can get a ride on the U-boat instead," Daria said as she stepped out and closed the car door. Walking away, she said to John as he fell into step and took her hand, "Your Lane philosophy is rubbing off on me."

"How so?"

"I didn't think twice about locking the car because I know nobody will steal it."

"Ah, such progress."

Mrs. Bennett was at the base of the gangway collecting tickets. She cheerfully said, "Daria and John, it's so nice to see you tonight."

John gave her the tickets and scanned the deck, spotting two lounge chairs. "And we're looking for the best seats on board."

"I hear the poker tables get the most action," Mrs. Bennett replied. "I'm sure you'll be good at that, Daria."

"Why does everyone seem to think I would be good at poker?" Daria locked her gaze on Mrs. Bennett. "Don't even say that it's because I have such a good poker face."

Mrs. Bennett stammered and said, "Oh, um, it's…because…"

Daria didn't let her finish. "I'm not sitting around a table looking at a bunch of people trying to play amateur psychologist while trying to keep a straight face." 

"Well, maybe you'll enjoy something else," Mrs. Bennett lamely suggested.

John said, "Don't worry, we've got an angle."

Watching the two go up the gangway, Mrs. Bennett muttered, "I worry when I hear them say something like that."

* * *

After Ms. Manson dropped a pile of chips into their hands, John and Daria stepped into the casino room and looked around. John asked, "Now what?"

"We need some grand, fast way to get rid of our chips. Like…a roulette wheel. We can bet it all and the odds are crap."

Mr. DeMartino rushed up to them, looking almost panicked. "Here, Daria, take my chips, please." 

"Excuse me?" she said.

He quickly said, "You know, as a thank you for making me want to kill myself a little less than the processed sausages who call themselves your classmates."

"I don't know if I can handle that much extra fun, but tell you what; I'll split them with John." 

John shrugged. "Sure, we can lose your money just as fast as ours."

Mr. DeMartino split the chips in his hands and gave one stack to each. "Thank you, Ms. Morgendorffer, Mr. Lane. You almost make me think that there might be some hope for young people."

"Don't be deluded," Daria said. "There isn't."

Mr. DeMartino made a fast escape to the ship's bar, which was oddly serving alcohol despite the predominance of teens on board and adults allegedly there to supervise.

John held his extra stack of chips up in front of Daria. "What was that about?"

"I think Mr. DeMartino may have run short on his meds this week," Daria suggested. "Now, let's lose the money and get some shuteye." 

At the roulette table, Daria placed her chips on 13 and John on 23. When the operator spun the wheel, John said, "Damn, should've placed my chips on the same number; it would've halved our odds."

Daria tilted her head and looked at him. "Did you just make a comment on probability that also used fractions at the same time?"

John rubbed his forehead. "Man, I really need to get some sleep."

They watched the ball roll around and bounce into the number 4 slot, looked at each other and Daria said, "Mission accomplished."

"And now, our final, greatest challenge," John said pseudo-dramatically.

Daria looked at the exits to the main deck. "Hmm, forward we have to deal with more wind and to the back, engine noise and possible smoke."

"Among these morons, you know someone is going to try that stupid 'standing on the bow' bit."

"Good point; then aft we go." 

"Daria, John, I was hoping to see you," Mr. O'Neill said, coming up from John's side.

John said, "Considering that Ms. Li made this mandatory, I don't see why you're so surprised."

"Isn't it great for students and teachers to get together in a more relaxed, informal setting?" 

Looking around at the suits and fancy dresses of the other students, Daria said, "Informal?"

"Yes! No classes, no titles, just one-on-one conversation and a little fun on the side."

John said, "Oh, that kind of informal." 

"I knew you'd get it," Mr. O'Neill said, totally missing the point. "So, what's your game tonight?"

Daria said, "Calvinball."

"I've never heard of that. Is it something to do with roulette?"

Straight-faced, Daria said, "It's a specialty version of poker…not for beginners."

"Oh my, sounds like something I should avoid. I hear that there are some card sharps on board." 

"Yeah, it would be best for you to stay away." 

"Well, be careful, Daria."

"I promise, Mr. O'Neill."

Looking over his shoulder as they walked away, John said, "They're going to eat him alive, aren't they?" 

Without looking, Daria said, "Yep."

"Just a sec," John said, making a side-step to the buffet table. "I just want to grab a few munchies before we go."

"The bottomless pit."

"Do you want my stomach growling to keep us awake?"

"Better grab your fill." 

John loaded a plastic plate and then joined Daria on the deck, where they found a couple of isolated chairs that they pushed together to make themselves comfortable. John offered the plate to Daria. "Fried cheese stick?"

She took one from the plate and leaned against him, slowly munching on the snack. "I could get used to this."

John settled in, popping a fried jalapeño into his mouth. "Can't complain."

* * *

Focusing on the sound of water splashing against the ship's hull, John could ignore the competing voices and music from the casino deck. Eyes closed and holding Daria's hand, he was almost asleep when he heard Kevin say, "Aw man, nobody in there was playing Go Fish." 

Brittany wiggled her chest back and forth, showing her low-cut dress. "But wasn't it so nice of the guys at the poker table to let their cards drop so I could see their hands? It made winning so easy."

"Um, sure babe, and I know how to treat a winner," Kevin replied, pulling her close, groping and kissing.

John cleared his throat and said, "You might want to find someplace a little more private for that."

"Eep!" Brittany squeaked.

Kevin said, "Hey, you shouldn't be so nosey!"

Daria said, "We were here first, Kevin. If I didn't know better, I'd think that you and Brittany were spying on us. You wouldn't do that, would you?"

"Eww!" Kevin said, flustered. "That's gross."

Brittany gave Kevin an angry look and pulled him away. Seeing that they were heading aft, John said, "Why don't you go to the bow; you can do that _Titanic_ thing."

Brittany made a u-turn and pulled Kevin forward. As they left, he said, "We get to see an iceberg?"

Daria turned her head to face John. "Good one. Maybe they'll fall overboard."

"Hmm, didn't we promise Jodie to throw them life preservers?" John asked. 

"That was only if we threw them off."

"Oh, yeah."

"Sweet dreams."

"You too."

* * *

"Blurghk!" came from a handsome boy in a tuxedo as he became sick over the railing. John opened one eye and said, "He must've eaten the complimentary sushi." 

Eyes still closed, Daria said, "Of all the railings on the ship, why did he have to pick this one?"

The boy groaned loudly and leaned further over the rail.

"Ow, that must've hurt," John said.

Daria reached down and picked up a cheddar fry from their plate. "You know that if he falls overboard, we'll get blamed for it."

"Rex! Are you there?" Quinn called from somewhere forward. The boy looked in her direction and then fled in a panic toward the stern. 

Several seconds later, Quinn stopped by Daria's chair. "Have you seen my date? I thought I saw him go this way."

Daria said, "Scare him off?"

"I don't know what happened. We were playing baccarat and he suddenly got all pale and kinda greenish and ran out of the casino. How rude is that?" 

John asked, "Did he eat the sushi?"

Exasperated, Quinn said, "God, John. I only let my dates eat fresh sushi. I mean, I don't even think Dad would eat the stuff they had out on the buffet table. Why did you ask?"

Daria said, "He just gave Davy Jones a hearty hello and fled that way when he heard you. Maybe he was being sensitive and didn't want you to see him puking all over the deck."

"Eww! He was sick?" 

John said, "If it wasn't the sushi, he's probably just seasick."

"Hmm, the boat has been going from side to side a bit. I thought it was supposed to do that."

Daria shrugged, "Now that you mention it, we do seem to be weaving a lot."

John said, "Maybe it's their way to make it seem like they went out to sea farther than they actually do." 

"Who cares?" Daria said. "Quinn, once he's feeling better, I'm sure your date will appreciate your presence." 

"We'll tell him you're worried and looking for him," John said.

"Don't say I'm worried: he might get the wrong idea. Look, if you see him, just let me know which way he goes, okay?"

"Sure," Daria said.

John sighed. "Whatever."

Quinn headed toward the stern like a cat stalking prey.

They had barely started nodding off when the rest of the Fashion Club arrived. Sandi said, "Uh, hello? Have you like, seen Quinn and her date?"

John pointed. "They went thataway."

Stacy said, "We heard that Quinn's date got sick."

"Stacy…eww," Tiffany admonished.

Sandi said, "It would be, like, really embarrassing if he did. We hope it won't look bad on Quinn." 

Becoming annoyed, John said, "It didn't look like he was in top shape." He started swaying his body to exaggerate the light rocking of the ship. "But sometimes, even the toughest guys can get motion sickness."

Daria joined in, matching John's motion. "Did you know that even with all their training, about a third of all astronauts get spacesick? I bet that gets messy if they miss the little baggy."

All three girls started to look uneasy.

"They say that at Normandy, the decks of the landing craft were coated with stuff from soldiers getting sick. I mean, it could happen to anyone," John said.

Sandi gulped hard. "Um, we've gotta go."

Stacy held her stomach. "Yeah, I'm not feeling that good."

"I'm not, either," Tiffany said. "Where's the bathroom?" 

Sandi said, "I think it was this way."

After they left, John said, "I don't think we're going to get any sleep."

"I think you're right," Daria said. After the ship lunged to the side more, she added, "There is something wrong with the way the ship's moving."

"Maybe a group of jewel thieves are taking over the ship and there's a big fight in the bridge. We should go check it out."

"Might as well."

John stood and grabbed the almost empty plate. "Besides, we need a refill."

Daria said, "You and your stomach."

Swinging through the casino deck, they were ignored by everyone intent on the gaming tables or the dance floor. John looked at the bare remains of the buffet table and tossed his plate in the trash. "So much for that idea." 

"And we had to face our fellow students to do it," Daria said.

Jodie and Mack saw them and approached. She said, "Hey guys, decided to come in anyway?"

John nodded to the table. "Only for a refill and it looks like we were too late."

"Yeah, the defensive line was hungry," Mack explained. "Someone told them that there was free food, so none of them ate dinner."

"So, you're not staying?" Jodie asked.

"No, we're on our way to the bridge to see why the ship is weaving so much," John said.

Daria picked up a pair of plastic butter knives and handed one to John. "We better arm ourselves if we're going to face those jewel thieves." 

Jodie laughed and said, "Have fun guys, whatever you're up to. Just one favor, please."

"What's that?" Daria asked.

"Don't do something that we have to write about in the school paper."

John said, "We'll remain strictly anonymous."

After they left, Mack said to Jodie, "The ship does seem to be weaving a bit. Maybe they're trying to get people seasick so that they don't have to restock the buffet table."

Jodie lightly tugged on his arm. "You've been hanging around Daria and John too much. Let's dance." 

Daria and John quickly found the stairs leading to the pilot house. Halfway up, the cause of the weaving became clear when they heard a bad duet singing:

_What do you do with a drunken sailor,  
What do you do with a drunken sailor,  
What do you do with a drunken sailor,  
Early in the morning?_

John said, "One of those sounds like Mr. DeMartino."

"Yeah, I wonder who the other voice could be?" Daria asked.

At the top of the stairs, the looked in to see the ship captain slouched on a bench set against the forward bulkhead with a bottle in his hand while Mr. DeMartino weaved back and forth against the ship's wheel.

_Way hay and up she rises  
Way hay and up she rises  
Way hay and up she rises  
Early in the morning_

John turned to Daria. "Do you have any idea of how many verses there are to that song?"

* * *

When she stepped through the door, Daria thought the bridge deck looked like it still belonged on a fishing trawler - except most fishermen would refuse to sign on to a ship in such disrepair. She said, "Excuse me."

The two men stopped singing and looked at the newcomers. The captain belched loudly and said, "Guh, tasted just as good the second time, damn fine rum."

Daria made a face at him and said, "I don't suppose you're going to be much help."

John said, "Mr. DeMartino, how are you doing?"

The teacher took a moment to focus. "Mr. Lane, just in time for the next watch."

The captain pushed himself off of the bench. "Watch change? Excellment, excelltent, um, excellent. Keep…keep her on 120 true until waypoint…uh, something 'er other and them, then…do a receptacle, um recycle, or bicycle, or, something like that. I'll be in my cabin." He saluted and stumbled to the exit.

Mr. DeMartino started to follow the captain, but stopped in front of Daria. "Ms. Morgendorffer. I leave the ship in good hands." 

Daria warily replied, "Okayyy."

John looked at the wheel, the minimal bridge instruments and tattered charts spread on the bulkhead bench. "Mr. DeMartino, do you have any idea of where we are?"

"Or how to get back to the dock?" Daria said.

The teacher unevenly pointed to a handheld GPS unit hanging by a wrist strap from a hook on the wheel pedestal. "Just follow the arrow."

John held the unit and saw that the arrow pointing to the left and back. "Great." 

Mr. DeMartino stumbled down the stairs after the captain. 

"This is not good," Daria said. "We need to get the owner up here."

John looked at the GPS display and said, "I can't tell yet if we've gone past the waypoint and turned, or just turned around early, just not all the way around. It might be a good idea for us to stop this thing while we find the owner."

"Good thinking. No sense in continuing the wrong way and as much as we joked about it, I'm not real big on experiencing a real collision."

John looked at two levers on the starboard bulkhead. "Those look like the throttles." He pulled them back to the center, neutral position. John and Daria breathed in relief to hear the engines slow down, but it changed to concern when they sputtered and stopped.

Daria said, "That can't be good, either. Try to keep the ship from hitting anything while I look for the anchor release."

John took a firm grip on the wheel and scanned the moonlit water ahead. "Wouldn't that be up front by the anchor?"

"Maybe, but I've got the feeling that the owner tried to get away with as small a crew as possible, so it might be up here." 

Experimentally pushing buttons on the GPS unit, John managed to change the tiny display to a simple map. "It looks like we've moved closer to the south side of the bay instead of heading toward the ocean."

"I suppose the wrong side of the bay is better than open sea." Daria tapped a lever on a port bulkhead panel. "Found it."

"This thing isn't slowing down that fast; maybe you can drop it to stop us."

"I don't think it would be a good idea. If the anchor caught hard on something, it could really jerk the ship around. I don't have that much faith in how well she's built."

John looked back out at the water. "This is going to take a while."

* * *

Looking down at the students milling around the bow, curious after the loud clanking of the anchor dropping, John said, "Some of them noticed. I'm impressed."

Daria peeked out also. "The noise probably disturbed their making out sessions." Turning to the door, she said, "Let's find the owner."

A man with close-cropped gray hair wearing a blue blazer entered. "You idiot! What have you…?" Seeing Daria and John, he was suddenly confused and said, "Who are you and where's the captain?" 

John said, "In his cabin."

"Are you the owner?" Daria asked.

"Yes, I'm the owner, Lee." He sniffed the air. "Hmm, in his cabin drunk, I bet. You can't miss the stench of that cheap rot-gut he guzzles. What are you kids doing here?"

John said, "We, um, saw him leave. We didn't know what else to do, so we stopped the ship so we could look for you."

"Good thinking, kids; you probably saved me a buttload of money if we'd hit anything. But why did you shut the engines off? You could've left them in neutral."

John said, "Actually, they stalled out when I did that."

Lee nodded. "They've been acting up lately."

Daria asked, "Can you pilot this thing back?"

"Yes, I can. Excuse me, son." Lee stepped behind the wheel and John moved aside. He looked at the GPS unit and grumbled, "Aw, damn. We're way off-course. It's going to take at least an hour longer to get back to dock. We better get started."

He pushed two power buttons below the throttles and listened to the engines sputter and clank, but not start. After four attempts, he pounded the bulkhead with his fist. "Dammit! Those stupid mechanics said they had it fixed!"

"It's going to take more than an extra hour to get back, isn't it?" Daria said.

Lee nodded. He took a microphone from the radio attached to the aft bulkhead and turned a knob to activate the ship's speakers. "May I have your attention, please? We are experiencing mechanical difficulties that will delay our return to dock." Looking pained, he said, "For your convenience, all of our facilities will remain open and a second serving at the buffet table will be prepared. For your convenience, extra deck chairs will be set out for use if you wish to rest. Thank you for your patience."

Lee slammed the mike back onto its rest. "That's it; the captain is history. Do you kids mind staying up here a bit longer to keep an eye on things? I need to run below to get everything set up…and to find out what bozo my wife is trying to hit on, this time."

John looked at Daria, who shrugged. He said, "Why not? It's better than mingling with our peers."

"Great, kids, I appreciate it. I'll be back as soon as I can."

After Lee jogged down the stairs, Daria looked at the radio. "Don't you think it's odd that he didn't try to contact the Coast Guard?" 

John settled onto the bench. "He's probably throwing the evidence overboard."

"You mean the captain." 

"Right."

* * *

A couple hours later, Daria yawned and looked at her watch. "What's taking him so long?"

John looked around at the visible sections of deck populated with people on deck chairs. Some used suit jackets as makeshift blankets while others appeared to have commandeered tablecloths. "It looks like all the seats are filling up." 

Daria snorted. "No good deed goes unpunished." 

Tired and irritated, Lee reappeared and entered the bridge, stopping to pour several large aspirin tablets into his hand before popping them into his mouth and washing them down with bottled water. "Thanks, kids, sorry it took so long. This is going to cost me a fortune in overtime and food; I hope the drink sales can make up for some of it."

John sleepily asked, "Are there any deck chairs left? We're kinda beat."

"Don't think so." Lee dug into his pocket and removed a key. "I'm going to be stuck here all night; use my stateroom. Go back to the stern and take the aft stairs by the lifeboat down to B deck. My stateroom will be directly to port. Don't worry about my wife; she has the starboard stateroom."

John took the keys. "Uh, thanks."

"There's a tug on the way, but we'll be lucky to be back by sunrise. Go get some sleep. Raid the fridge if you're hungry. It's the least I can do."

Daria said, "Has anyone called our parents?"

"Ms. Li said that she'd take care of that. God only knows why she has a satellite phone."

"Are you sure about the stateroom?" Daria asked.

Lee made shooing motions with his hands. "I'm sure."

Taking the hint, Daria and John left the pilothouse and walked to the stern. John said, "He seemed in a hurry to get us out of there."

"Probably doesn't want anyone around when the Coast Guard arrives, assuming he's even contacted them."

John shrugged. "The room and board's probably an attempt to buy our silence."

"Right now, I don't care. I want to sleep."

"Me, too." 

They found the stateroom without incident and went inside. Well appointed with wood paneling and fine fixtures, it was a luxurious contrast to the rest of the ship. Daria said, "I guess he wasn't cheap about everything."

John went directly to the refrigerator and looked inside. "Wow. He definitely believes in good eating." John reemerged with a plate of jumbo coconut shrimp. "Check this…"

As John turned, he saw Daria sitting on the queen-sized bed. Knotting her fingers together, she said, "Did you notice that there's only one bed in here?" 

John looked around the stateroom. Besides the bed, there were two chairs, a small table, a desk, a dresser and a door to a restroom. He gazed down at the plate and tried to sound hopeful. "It'll be just like last night when we fell asleep next to each other on the sofa."

Daria looked back at the moonlight streaming through windows that looked out from the ship's stern. "Except this is a lot more romantic and we're not in the living room where Mom and Dad could walk in at any moment."

No longer hungry, John set the plate down on the dresser. "Yeah. It is very romantic."

"And tempting."

"Very." 

Cheeks pink, Daria looked at the floor. "You know that guys don't have a monopoly on thinking about…that."

That caused John to blush. "Uh…"

When Daria lifted her head, the loving warmth in her eyes was like a siren's song to John. 

Loud pounding on the door was followed by a shrill woman's voice. "You cheap bastard! I want my Champagne back!" 

Both of the teens jumped at the sudden outburst.

More pounding. "Don't you dare ignore me!"

The mood completely spoiled, Daria said, "That must be the owner's wife." 

Relieved, yet deeply disappointed, John said, "Um…there's a bottle of Champagne in the fridge. That must be what she's talking about."

"Open the door, right this minute!" the woman outside yelled.

John shrugged and went to the door. "If I answer, maybe she'll shut up." Opening it, he faced a middle-aged woman with bleached blond hair. He asked, "Can I help you?"

The woman recoiled at seeing him. "Ewww, I didn't know he was into that. On second thought, I don't want the Champagne."

Irritated, Daria said, "It's not what you think."

"Ewww. I don't know if seeing you in there is worse or better," the woman said, looking past John at Daria as she backed away from the door. "I'm going back to the bar for a stiff drink."

John stepped out in front of her. "Ma'am, it is not what you think. Please listen. I'm assuming that you're Lee's wife, right?"

"Yes, I'm DeeDee."

Daria stepped into the corridor with them. "We saw the captain leave the bridge and stopped the boat so it wouldn't hit anything."

"I told Lee to fire that drunken idiot, but no, his buddy needed a job," DeeDee complained. 

John said, "The engines wouldn't restart, so we agreed to watch the bridge while he went around getting things in order for the long wait. Since all the deck chairs were claimed by the time he got back, he offered us his room since he had to stay up to deal with towing the ship back to port."

DeeDee looked mildly embarrassed. "Oh, so you're not…"

"No!" Daria and John emphatically said.

"Oh. Sorry." DeeDee looked into the room. "Look kids, could you still grab my Champagne? I know my husband has it in there somewhere."

Daria shrugged. "Lee didn't say not to give anything to his wife, so why not?"

"I'll get it," John said, going back into the stateroom.

DeeDee leaned close to Daria, winked the subtlety of the Titanic hitting an iceberg, and said, "He's a cutie, hope you have fun tonight."

Daria blinked in surprise at her suggestion, followed by a blush. "We…uh…decided we weren't ready for that. We're hoping to just get some sleep tonight."

Catching the tone in Daria's voice, DeeDee said, "Aw, that's so sweet."

John returned with the bottle. "Here you go."

DeeDee took it. "Thank you, young man. I'm sorry I disturbed you. Sweet dreams."

John said, "Thanks."

DeeDee hurried down the corridor to her cabin door, opening it and saying to the waiting Mr. Gibson, "Okay, Coach, it's time to have some fun!"

John nudged Daria back into their room and closed the door. "Gouge my eyes out, please."

* * *

Polite knocking woke Daria the next morning. She carefully moved her hand from where it rested on John's chest and rose from the bed. Looking down at her clothes, Daria couldn't resist a short laugh at the wrinkles caused by sleeping in them, as well as the contrast of her sock-covered feet. She opened the door and saw Lee.

"Good morning, miss," he said. "We're about forty-five minutes from the dock and I thought that I'd wake you two early so you won't be seen by your classmates leaving a stateroom."

"Oh! Thanks," Daria said, thinking about the rumor potential if that happened. "We'll be out in a minute."

"I'll wait here."

Daria closed the door and hurried to the other side of the bed, shaking John. "Wake up."

"Hmm?" he mumbled.

Daria shook him harder. "Wake up." 

Suddenly worried, he sat up straight. "Daria?" 

"We were so tired last night that we didn't think of being seen leaving the stateroom. We need to get going."

"Oh, crap!" John cried, jumping up and looking for his boots. "There's no telling what kind of stories our beloved classmates would come up with."

"Lee woke us up early to avoid that, but I don't want to risk a delay," Daria said as she went around the bed to sit down and put on her boots.

Less than a minute later, they opened the door and at Lee's nod, stepped out. John said, "Thanks."

"Thanks in return," Lee said. "Kids, can I ask a favor?"

Cautiously, Daria said, "What kind of favor?"

"Things will go a lot smoother for all of us if the reporters waiting at the dock don't find out that you discovered the captain drunk and then spent the night in my cabin."

"Uh-huh," John said, catching Lee's intent.

Daria reached into her pocket and took out her father's business card. "You know, having to get towed back to port probably isn't going to be good for business. If I'm not mistaken, you're probably going to need a whole new marketing campaign."

Lee took the card. "Hmm, Morgendorffer Consulting. Are they any good?"

"We worked there last summer."

"Deal."

* * *

Taking advantage of their head start, John and Daria were waiting at the buffet table as the caterer placed some reheated leftovers for a quick breakfast while Lee and the ship's bartender went around waking students. They were able to serve themselves before anyone else got to the buffet and made off with some of the choicest items. Sitting at a poker table to eat their breakfast, they were interrupted by Quinn, who looked as fresh as she was the night before. Quinn said to them, "There you are! What did you do, sleep on the deck? You look horrible."

John waved his hand at the rumpled teenagers populating the room and said, "Look around; everyone looks like they slept in their clothes…because they slept in their clothes."

Daria asked, "Except you, Quinn. How did you pull off not looking like the rest of us?"

Cheerful, Quinn explained, "Oh, it's a gift."

Looking wilted, the rest of the Fashion Club arrived. Sandi said, "Quinn, where were you able to find a decent mirror?"

"Tell us, please," Stacy begged.

Tiffany said, "Yeah, before anyone recognizes us."

She pointed. "Behind the bar. There's plenty of room."

After the three girls left, Quinn turned back to Daria and John, smirking. She said, "Okay, I have a radar for these things. Come on, I couldn't let myself be seen in public looking like them, or you."

John started to laugh, causing Daria and Quinn to stare at him. Finally, he was able to say, "Daria, I don't think we have to worry about getting home too early."

That caused Daria to lightly chuckle. "No chance of that."

Quinn tilted her head, still not picking up on the joke.

John said, "Jake and Helen, home alone? By now, they should have it out of their system."

Quinn's face dropped in shock. "John! Do you have to remind me that they do that stuff?"

"It's a gift."

* * *

Looking over the ship's rail at the cluster of reporters, cameras and worried parents waiting at the dock, Jodie said, "Well Daria, it looks like the whole school ended up doing something that'll have to go in the _Lowdown_."

Standing beside Jodie, Daria said, "Our own adventure at sea."

"Too bad you slept through most of it. Everyone got a little freaky when the owner told them that the engines had broken down."

On Jodie's other side, Mack said, "You probably would've been amused, Daria." 

On the opposite side of Daria, John said, "Yeah, we missed all the fun."

"Let me guess," Jodie said, "You're going to evade the media and make a break for it." 

Daria said, "Jodie, you're a better public speaker than I am."

John said, "We wouldn't have much to say." 

"Besides," Daria said, seemingly off the cuff, "Who wants to hear about us sleeping next to the only lifeboat on board?" 

"Okay," Jodie agreed before giving Daria a look that also said, "You're not telling me everything, but I'll go along."

* * *

John stopped the car in the driveway behind Jake's car and turned to Daria. "I'm worried. Do you think that Jodie mentioning the only lifeboat was enough?"

Staying in her seat, Daria said, "With all that press coverage back there, either the Coast Guard or some reporter will investigate and find all the problems aboard the _Fairy Princess_. She'll never go to sea again unless Lee cleans up his act."

John nodded in understanding. "With Jodie mentioning something that anyone really could've noticed, we look uninvolved."

"In the end, we got what we wanted, a good night's sleep. The deathtrap cruise ship will get put into proper shape, and nobody will have a hint that we shared that room, avoiding any unpleasant rumors."

John slid across the seat and kissed Daria. "You're brilliant. That's why I love you."

She gently pushed him back slightly. "John, I really don't want anyone knowing about that and making any assumptions."

"Huh?"

"If DeeDee hadn't shown up when she did…John…" Daria swallowed hard, forcing herself to say, "I know I wasn't ready, but I wanted to."

"Oh," John said, remembering the overwhelming temptation of that moment.

"If people started talking, it would be that much harder to resist. Please don't take this the wrong way, because I find you very appealing and part of me very much wants to. But…an important part of me still isn't ready."

"I think I know what you mean. It would've changed things in ways that…that we're not prepared for." 

She clutched both of his hands tightly in hers. "I'm so relieved that you understand."

"I think we just got a little closer."

"I think you're right." Daria nodded toward the door. "We better head in before Mom and Dad get weird. They're probably on edge, waiting for us to get home after everything."

"Yeah, you're right. Let's go." 

Coming around the car, Daria stopped suddenly with her eyes locked on the large corner window of the house. "Did I just see what I think I did?"

John followed her gaze and caught a glimpse of a caped figure moving behind the drawn curtain. "We got home too early."

* * *

Some dialog from _Just Add Water_ by Peggy Nicoll  
_Drunken Sailor_, traditional sea chantey 

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

April 2007


	27. Sloane, Tom B

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. 

This is the twenty-seventh John Lane story 

Richard Lobinske 

**Sloane, Tom B**

At the front of his classroom, Mr. O'Neill drew arrows from one crude drawing to another as he lectured, "And so the pen begat the printing press and the printing press begat the linotype machine┘" 

In an aside to Daria, John said, "Begat? Is this about printing the Bible?" 

"That's a great point, John!" Mr. O'Neill said. "The _Gutenberg Bible_ was the first great printed bestseller. I'm so glad you're paying attention." 

"Um, sure," John muttered. 

Daria whispered to him, "Sarcasm can be a double-edged sword." 

Mr. O'Neill turned back to the board. "Where was I? Oh yes, which brings us today, when we have entire epics spawned interactively via the web and they never see the printed page at all." 

Daria said, "Considering the quality of most web-based fiction, that's a good thing for the trees of the world." 

"Yes Daria, it's good for the environment, but I was thinking more about the process than the product," Mr. O'Neill said, trying to keep on track. "Good or bad, the message delivered is influenced by the medium in which it is conveyed. But today's progressive communicators ask, 'Why stop at just medium? Why not go for...' Kevin?" 

He answered, "Large? There's never enough soda in those medium cups and a large only costs ten cents more!" 

"Uh, no, Kevin," Mr. O'Neill said. 

"I counted the change myself!" Kevin said in his defense. 

"I'm sure you did, Kevin, and I'll pass that on to Mr. Phelps. But I was looking for media, or more specifically, multimedia." 

"Is that, like, a two for one deal?" Kevin asked. 

Mr. O'Neill whimpered slightly and said, "No, Kevin, but multimedia does bring me to our exciting assignment." 

John whispered, "Why is it that when he says exciting, he really means boring?" 

Daria answered, "I'm sure it's the result of years of intense study." 

Animated, Mr. O'Neill said, "Each one of you will be part of a creative team to produce a multimedia project that uses the power of computing to combine words, images, and sound. You can use computers here at school or those at home. John, doesn't this just make you want to run out and get started?" 

"Speaking of which, can I run out to the bathroom?" he replied. 

"Oh, no, are you all right?" 

"I won't be if you keep me sitting here too much longer." 

"Please, please go."

* * *

Driving home after school, John said to Daria, "Actually, I'm kinda psyched about this multimedia project. Your writing and my drawing┘" 

"Don't let it go to your head," Daria said. 

"You have to admit that we work well together and let's face it, when you do a project, you get an A. One of those puppies could actually bump my Language Arts grade up to a B. Wouldn't that be amazing?" 

"You: a B in Language Arts? Amazing is only one of the words I can think of." 

"Ahem, Miss C-in-Physical-Education, do you have a point?" 

Daria growled, "I could make an exception with that all-A policy of mine." 

"I would offer to help with your PE grade, but for some strange reason, they won't let me into your class." 

"Damn sexist segregation." 

"Since we are working together, do you have any ideas?" 

Daria sarcastically suggested, "The Emotional Trauma Cycle of a High School Romance?" 

"Hmm, with something like that, we could really ratchet up the angst rating. Something that would make a Nazgul curl up into a whimpering little ball." 

"This project has the potential to really fry Mr. O'Neill's brains." 

John laughed and said, "Speaking of frying brains, since we're planning on going to the Zon tonight, why don't we hit up Trent for some music?" 

They looked at each other for a moment before saying in unison, "Nah."

* * *

"_Ice Box Woman_, a Mystik Spiral classic," John said while watching the band play. 

Standing next to him in the semi-crowded club, Daria said, "If Monique ever hears that new verse, she's going to tear him a new one." 

"Yep. Sometimes, my brother just never learns." 

"John, tell me, how has he managed to live this long?" 

"How did Ms. Li become principal? Some mysteries in life are beyond our understanding." 

"Um, hi," a quiet voice said behind them. They turned to see Quinn with her hair pulled into a ponytail and wearing a decidedly unfashionable black shirt with her jeans. 

Daria asked, "Quinn, what are you doing here?" 

Trying to be nonchalant, she said, "Oh, you know, sometimes I feel like I should spend more time with you two and..." 

John said, "The credit card bills arrived, didn't they?" 

"Um, yeah." 

"How bad?" Daria asked. 

"Daria, I'm in a grunge club with you two," Quinn answered. 

Grimacing, John said, "Oooh, Jake must be about 9.0 on the Richter Scale." 

"I'm sure Mom will get Dad calmed down in a couple hours. Can I hang out until then?" 

"It's your brain cells," Daria said.

* * *

Watching the band walk off of the stage, Daria said, "Quinn, John and I were only planning on staying through the first set." 

"Yeah, the second set is worse," John added. "Only people with their judgment compromised by significant amounts of alcohol stay for it." 

A young man with brown hair and comfortable clothes approached the three. "Would earplugs help if you want to observe the second set crowd?" 

Quinn quickly appraised the subtle high quality and hidden, inherent expense of the newcomer's clothes. "Hi, my name is Quinn. What's yours?" 

"Oh, excuse me, where are my manners. I'm Tom, Tom Sloane." 

"At least you didn't say, 'Sloane, Tom Sloane,'" Daria said. 

Very formal, he replied, "How about, Sloane, Tom B. Rank, undetermined." 

John said, "Wow, two new victims tonight. I'll have to tell Trent that the band's audience is growing." 

"You know them?" Tom asked. 

"The lead wailer is my brother. Don't ask me to sing, I'm worse." 

"Thanks for the warning." 

"I'm John." 

"Daria," she said, observing Quinn's visual evaluation of the newcomer. "So, what brings you to Lawndale, the pimple on the backside of the Earth?" 

"I live here," Tom answered. 

John said, "New in town? Haven't seen you around Lawndale High." 

"Native, but Mom and Dad insist that I go to Fielding Prep." 

Quinn sweetly said, "Tom, would you mind walking me over to get a soda?" 

He shrugged. "Sure." 

As they walked away, John said, "Do you think we should warn him?" 

Daria shook her head. "Nah, he looks like one of those spoiled rich kids that sail yachts every summer. Experience will be the best teacher."

* * *

In the alley behind the Zon, Max and Nick walked out to the Tank. Nick said, "Why didn't we just bring that drum in for the first set?" 

"Because I didn't need it. But I need it for the second set. You can't do _Behind My Eyelids_ without it." 

"I still think we should've grabbed it when we had some light." 

Max opened the driver's door and flipped the van's dome light switch back and forth. "Dammit!" When he tried the headlights, the continued darkness caused him to pound the dashboard of the Tank. "Dammit!" 

At the sliding side door, Nick said, "What's wrong?" 

"Dead battery. This really sucks." 

"I think we have some jumper cables." 

Max started scanning the cars parked in the alley behind the Zon. "No way, the last time we tried to jump start the Tank, it caught on fire. Besides, look over there, someone abandoned an old Pinto. Let's see if there's a battery in it." 

Nick started to follow, saying, "Are you sure it's abandoned?" 

"Dude, who in their right mind would drive a Pinto? It costs more to have one towed away than it's worth for scrap. I bet they dropped it back here hoping that nobody would notice." 

"Good point." 

"Besides, we're criminales." 

When they reached their target, Nick said, "Man, this thing's in worse shape than Trent's old car." 

Max felt under the grill, pulled a bungee cord loose, and opened the hood. "Yes! A battery."

* * *

Amused at her sister's reaction to the graffiti-covered walls, Daria said to Quinn, "I'm in here to actually use the restroom. Why did you follow me?" 

Keeping her voice down, Quinn said, "Daria, why didn't you tell me that people like Tom came here?" 

"It's the first time I've seen him. He's kinda cute, but why are you going crazy over him? Normally, guys are doing that to you." 

"Daria! Doesn't the name Sloane mean a thing to you?" 

"On the whole, no." 

"Like in, Grace, Sloane and Page?" 

Recognizing the big investment bank company that owned much of downtown Lawndale, Daria said, "Oh, okay. So he might be related; big deal." 

"Even if they're scruffy, those are top of the line clothes that Tom's wearing. He goes to Fielding Prep. There's no 'might be related' about him. He is one of _the_ Sloanes." 

"Okay, so what?" 

"They're rich! The Sloanes make the Taylors and the Landons look, um, middle-class." 

"Ah, now I see. You've found someone to pay off your credit card bills." 

"Just think of what kind of car he must drive." 

Daria stepped into the stall and, as she closed the door, said, "Excuse me."

* * *

Hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth while waiting, Tom said, "It looks like you and Daria are a couple. Is Quinn seeing anybody?" 

John said, "To the first, yes. For the second, if you mean, is Quinn seeing anyone steady? The answer is no." 

"Hmm." 

John glanced at Tom and snickered inside. "What brings you to this neck of the woods?" 

"Well, I finally have a car of my own, so I thought I'd check out some of the places around town my parents frown upon me visiting." 

"Ah, you're slumming." 

"I prefer to think of it as trying to learn more about life outside of my parents' social circle. I hate to think of what kind of an isolated, stuck-up snob I'd turn into if all I ever experienced was private school, the country club and Mom's charity events." 

"Uh-huh. And considering your question about Quinn, I'm sure it also includes looking around for different girls than the same ones you've seen for years." 

"You don't want to meet the girls from the Land of the Muffys. You can't imagine how much time they spend talking about clothes, or makeup, or comparing the status of their latest dates." 

John hesitated before saying, "I see." 

"Look around you. The people here are alive and free from convention. That's what I'm looking for." 

"That's one way to describe it." 

Returning from the restroom with Quinn, Daria said, "Okay, I've practiced my antigravity hovering for the day." 

Tom quipped, "Real Zero-G toilets, next on _Sick, Sad World_." 

John snickered. "Good one." 

Quinn quickly said, "Excuse us for just a moment," and pulled Daria away. 

Once they were out of sight in the crowd, Daria snatched her arm away and said, "Quinn, what are you doing?" 

"Oh my god! He watches that show. I need some pointers, quick!" 

"I figured that would've been an automatic disqualification." 

"Daria, you always want me to think beyond appearances. So, why aren't you going to support me when I'm willing to try?" 

Sighing, the older sister said, "You have me there. Okay, but don't try to pretend you're a regular viewer. If he is, he'll catch you in a heartbeat. Say you catch it from time to time, like when they had the moonshine still in Mississippi raided by alien ATF agents." 

"Or that guy that saw the image of Buddha in a deli ham?" 

Daria paused. "Wait, how did you know about that one?" 

"I listened at the door one time when I just had to get away from Tiffany trying to explain the difference between lilac and lavender to Stacy." Quinn started to grin when she noticed Daria's breath catch. She said, "It must've been fascinating; I didn't hear a word out of you or John." 

Daria blushed and mumbled, "I think you'll do fine." 

When they got back to John, Quinn asked, "Where's Tom?" 

John replied, "He said he was going to bring his car around to the front. Daria and I parked across the street. Why don't we head out?" 

"Bringing the car around; how sweet," Quinn said as she walked to the door. 

John fell into place beside Daria. "Target acquired." 

Outside of the club they waited for several minutes as Quinn speculated about what kind of car Tom drove. Eventually, Daria spotted Tom walking around a corner. She said, "The emperor's new car?" 

"I'm sorry," Tom said when he reached them. "Somebody stole the battery out of my car. Can I get a ride home? Quinn, can I have a rain check?" 

"Sure, Tom. Daria, John, do you mind?" 

"I don't see a problem," Daria said. "John?" 

"Eh, why not?" He pointed to the blue bomb. "Right over there." 

Tom said, "You came here in that?" 

Daria said, "If you finish the line I think you're going to finish, I will have to kill you."

* * *

Leaning into the open back door of the car, Tom said to Quinn, "Okay then, I'll pick you up at 7:00 tomorrow night." 

Quinn said, "That will be great. See you tomorrow, Tom." 

"Good night." To the others, he said, "Thanks for the ride. It's been nice meeting you." 

In the driver's seat, John said, "No problem." 

Daria said, "Nice to meet you, Tom. Good luck with the car tomorrow." 

"Thanks." Tom gave a last wave to Quinn and turned to walk along the perfectly manicured path to the ornate mansion that was the Sloane residence. 

Driving away, John said, "That looks like a comfy house." 

Dreamy, Quinn looked back and said, "Yes." 

Daria turned to her sister. "I'm impressed; you managed to go the entire trip without once mentioning clothes or popularity." 

"She even gave Tom a chance to talk," John added. 

"Do I look stupid?" Quinn sharply said. "Of course you don't spend all your time talking about clothes to a guy; they hate it. You keep things simple and let him talk. That way, he stays interested in you and thinks he looks good." 

"Forgive us, we are still beginners at the Tao of Dating," Daria said. 

"It's a good thing you two stumbled into each other. You'd never survive out there on your own."

* * *

Arms folded, Elsie smirked at her brother as he entered the house. "So, what happened on your great adventure to visit the unwashed masses that you needed a ride home?" 

"Someone stole the battery from my car," Tom said in tired explanation. "But the upside was that I met some cool people." 

"I thought people who drove cars like the one that dropped you off were called eccentric. Wait, that must be why you like them." 

"Funny, Elsie." 

"I saw the couple in the front seat; who were you talking to in the back seat?" 

"The sister of the girl in the front seat. Her name is Quinn and we have a date tomorrow night." 

"Providing that you can get your car to start." 

"It'll start. All it needs is a battery. I can easily put a new one in tomorrow morning." 

Elsie cocked her head, saying, "And how do you plan on getting said battery to your car?" 

He shrugged. "I'll just have to get a ride from Mom or Dad. They'll find out where I went sooner or later, so it might as well be sooner. That way, I can get the embarrassing questions out of the way." 

Changing tactics, Elsie said, "You said you had a date. Impressive, if true." 

"Yes, I have a date and I'm not making it up." 

"Anything's possible. Do you have any plans, or are you just going to wing it?" 

"I was thinking about grabbing a burger or some pizza before going to see _Much Ado About Nothing_ at Playhouse 99." 

"Junk food and Shakespeare. Only you, big brother. Only you."

* * *

Lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling with his feet propped on the bed, John said, "How about _The Idiot's Guide of What Not to Do on a Date_?" 

Sitting on the bed with a notepad braced against her knees, Daria scribbled notes and said, "That has potential. Relevant topic, capacity for humor and avenues to embarrass Mr. O'Neill." 

"Along with half the students of Lawndale High." 

Resting her chin on her pencil, Daria said, "Why limit ourselves to Lawndale? I'm sure we can find some good date horror stories online. The question is, do we play it straight up or for comedy?" 

"Black comedy?" 

"Oh yeah, that'll work." 

John dropped his feet onto the floor and sat up. "This is going to be good."

* * *

Daria and John hunched over a sketchpad on the coffee table while he drew some fast outline drawings. She said, "Where did you get that idea?" 

"My brother, Wind. He did that when he was dating his second wife." 

"And she married him?" 

"Not for long." 

From the top of the stairs, Quinn said, "Can you do me a favor?" 

Looking up and seeing Quinn in a very fancy evening gown, Daria said, "Oh, Miss Scarlett, are you ready for the cotillion?" 

John said, "That's a lot more effort than you usually put into a date." 

Hands on the railing, Quinn learned toward them. "I'm trying to make a good impression. I'm going to wait in my room. When Tom arrives, can one of you please come upstairs to get me?" 

Daria said, "I get it. You don't want Dad yelling, 'Quinn! Your date is here,' do you?" 

"That would be so undignified," Quinn said with a roll of her eyes. "Can you come up, please?" 

"I suppose it won't break my leg; okay," Daria agreed. 

"Thanks!" Quinn said, then spun and hurried to her room. 

John watched the empty staircase. "You know, I have a feeling this is going to be one big train wreck. From what Tom said to me, that is exactly what he wasn't looking for in a girl." 

Thinking about the night before and what Quinn said she hadn't heard when she listened at John's door, Daria said, "I think we need to keep Old 97 on the tracks tonight." 

Curious, John slowly said, "Okay┘what do you have in mind?" 

"Depending upon how things look when he arrives, you may need to keep Tom distracted while I, um, warn Quinn." 

Joking, John said, "Oh boy, what does she have on us?" 

"Nothing, really, but I think we owe her."

* * *

Seated on the floor next to the large corner window of the living room, John worked on some storyboards for their project while Daria read printouts various accounts from a "Dating Disasters" website. Motion at the driveway caught his attention and he watched a rust-spotted blue Pinto stop behind his and Daria's car. When Tom, dressed much like he was the previous evening, stepped out, John said, "I think it's time to warn Scarlett that Rhett doesn't give a damn. I mean, he really doesn't give a damn." 

"On my way," Daria said. On the stairs, she asked, "Car or clothes?" 

"Both, and the steam whistle is blowing." 

After making sure Daria was upstairs, John opened the door and said, "Hey, Tom. Daria just went upstairs to get Quinn." 

Tom said, "That was fast." 

John pointed to the large window. "I happened to see you drive up." 

"Ah." 

Looking at Tom's car, John said, "Wow, that's an endangered species." 

Tom looked back and cracked a smile. "Yep, I'm tempted to put a sign on the back that says, 'Warning: May Explode Without Provocation,' or something like that." 

In Quinn's room, Daria said, "I think you need to consider something more casual." 

Quinn asked, "He didn't dress up?" 

Daria went to the window and looked out to see Tom's car for herself. "No, and┘" She tried to think of something, but just couldn't find the exact words. Instead, she motioned for Quinn to come over and pointed to the driveway. "There's no easy way to tell you." 

Quinn gasped when she peered down. "Daria, you're joking. Please tell me you're joking. That can't be Tom's car." 

"I'm sorry, Quinn." 

Quinn pleaded, "What am I going to do?" 

"I suggest that you change into something more comfortable and hope that his wit and charm will make up for his clothes and car."

* * *

Incredulous, Tom said, "Let me get this straight. Daria's your girlfriend and you stay in a room right down the hall." 

"That's right." 

"Her parents know about it?" 

"Yes, they're my legal guardians." 

"I've always wanted to know; when you sell your soul, do you really sign the contact in blood?" 

"I've been lucky." 

"John, lucky is finding a $20 bill on the sidewalk. You've got a situation most guys our age dream about." 

"I wouldn't trade this for anything, but let me tell you, it's not as easy as you think. I'm under a lot more scrutiny than most guys our age. That's something that really sucks before breakfast." 

"Hmm, I can see that." 

They stood in silence, looking around the living room. After a while, Tom glanced at his watch. "I wonder what's taking so long." 

"Who knows?" John replied. After more silence, he said, "So, um, what are your intentions with Quinn?" 

"Pizza, movie┘and don't worry, the back seat is in too bad of shape to try anything." 

John nodded. 

Tom said, "Your big brother routine isn't very convincing." 

"I'm still new at it." 

After even more silence, Tom said, "Okay, there's something going on and you're here to keep me busy." 

"Uh┘yeah." John glanced upstairs and said, "This is going to sound weird. Really weird." 

"Okay, this coming from a teenager living in his girlfriend's house." 

John muttered, "How best to say this┘" _Quinn must've noticed his car by now and she hasn't blown him off or sent Daria down to do it for her. She must still want to go out with him. Hmm._ Clearer, he said, "She's probably trying to figure out the right thing to wear." 

"Oh, no," Tom said, sounding disappointed. 

"Um┘this is kinda, like the first real date she's been on." 

"I'd gotten the impression that she has gone out with guys before." 

_Careful._ "She has. But, I have the feeling that she wants to go out to be with you, not to be just seen with you." 

"Huh?" 

"Tom, Quinn is usually very image conscious and spotted that you're wealthy right away. She had images of you arriving in a fancy car and taking her out to a private room at Chez Pierre for dinner and dressed accordingly." 

Tom heavily sighed. "Great, just great. I wanted to meet a girl that wasn't like that." 

"You've been here for ten minutes and Quinn hasn't come down to give you a brush-off. If she is changing into something more appropriate to what you seem to have in mind, that's a big step for her. Give her a chance." 

Tom nodded. "It's only one evening, sure. I was thinking of tonight's Shakespeare week showing at Playhouse 99. Am I correct that she's never set foot inside of there?" 

"Yes." 

"Tonight's going to be a challenge, isn't it?" 

"Yes." 

Quinn appeared on the stairs wearing fitted jeans and a blue sweater. "Hi, Tom." 

"Hi, Quinn," he answered. 

"Hi, sorry for the delay," Daria said. 

Tom asked, "Are you ready?" 

Taking a brief pause to steel herself, Quinn said, "I'm ready." 

Opening the door, Tom said, "I should probably warn you that my car's a little rough around the edges." 

Quinn glanced at Daria and John. "I've ridden in their car." 

As Tom closed the door, he said, "How do you feel about a little of the Bard tonight?" 

Faintly, John and Daria could hear Quinn say, "I don't know, I was thinking more about seeing a movie." 

Daria shook her head. "Do you know which Shakespeare movie is showing tonight at the theater?" 

"I think it's the Branagh version of _Much Ado About Nothing_." 

"Well, those two would make an interesting Beatrice and Benedick." 

John smirked and said, "Hey, I've always wanted a chance to play yenta."

* * *

Sitting down at the booth after placing their pizza slices on the table, Tom said, "Cheeseless? I knew it was on the menu, but always thought it was a joke." 

"Healthy eating is no joke," Quinn admonished. 

"Point taken." Looking at Quinn's pizza, he added, "Onions, peppers, mushrooms, tomato sauce; you almost have a salad." 

"Exactly," she said. "It's all about balance." 

Raising his pepperoni and sausage slice, Tom said, "I balanced salt and grease?" 

Unable to actually look at the pizza, she said, "You and John would get along. He'll eat anything, even my Dad's cooking." 

"Note to self: stay away from Mr. Morgendorffer's cooking."

* * *

Quinn looked at the drink cup in stunned surprise as Tom walked away from the theater's snack stand. 

"Next, please," the pimply-faced boy behind the counter called, then said, "Please move to the side, miss." 

Quinn broke out of her shock and grabbed the diet cola before hurrying after Tom. "What was that?" 

"What was what?" 

"You left my soda on the counter." 

Tom sipped through the straw in his soda and said, "You'd have a hard time drinking if I was carrying it." 

She glared at his back. "Yeah, right."

* * *

The movie had barely started when Quinn leaned to the side and whispered to Tom, "Why are they talking funny?" 

"It's Shakespeare," Tom replied. 

"I thought he was supposed to be good. So why is everyone talking funny?" 

Tom slid down in his seat. "That's how English was spoken when Shakespeare wrote his plays." 

"But this movie is only a couple of years old." Quinn noticed Tom's sinking and then what he said registered. "Oh, um, sorry. How about if I just watch the movie?"

* * *

After the movie, Tom got into his car and leaned over to unlock the passenger door as Quinn impatiently waited. When she gingerly sat down on the worn seat, he said, "We're not compatible at all, are we?" 

"No," Quinn answered, glad that Tom was the first to say something. 

"But you have a little smile. Something must've gone right." 

"I liked the movie. Beatrice and Benedick were so cute and funny." 

"At least that's something." 

"But I'll never understand how she'd go out in public, let alone be filmed, with that hair." Looking at Tom, Quinn said, "You're smiling, too." 

He replied with a nod. "I am. It's one thing to see a movie like that with someone who appreciates Shakespeare. It's another when you see it with someone who's discovering Shakespeare." 

"Is that good or bad?" 

"Good." 

Quinn said, "And I mean this in a good way, not as a blow-off. Can we be friends?" 

"You know, that would be great. Let's face it; we'd never survive the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing." 

"Not in this car." Quinn then admitted, "Although, I'm glad Daria talked me into going out with you tonight." 

"I was tempted to run when John said you were expecting a night at Chez Pierre, but I'm glad he talked me into giving you a chance." 

They looked at each other for a moment before starting to laugh. Quinn said, "They set us up." 

"We have to get even."

* * *

John flipped to the next illustrated page of a sketchbook set up on the easel in his room while Daria read from her notebook, "Congratulations, you may be able to survive your first attempts at dating. But don't worry; things only get more difficult after that." 

Taking a quick look at the surprised boy and girl in the illustration she kissed John's cheek. "You were right; we do work well together." 

John asked, "Do we play well together, too?" as he shifted to kiss her on the lips. 

"I'd say, yes." 

Their next kiss was cut short by Quinn's harsh whisper in the hallway, "Shh. They might hear you." 

That was followed by Tom whispering, "Sorry." 

Immediately curious, Daria and John went to the door and peeked out, just in time to see Quinn, holding Tom's hand, draw him into her room. 

Daria weakly said, "Um┘" 

"I was just about to say the same thing," John said. 

"That was Quinn sneaking Tom into her room, right?" 

"It was. I can't believe it." 

"I feel like we should do something, but part of me says butt out, it's her choice." 

"I know, but┘your mom didn't have her get precautions the way she made you." 

"You've got a point there. Quinn was very emphatic that she didn't want anyone knowing that I was on the pill because guys would assume that she was." 

"It looks like Tom knows how to press the right buttons. Dammit, I need a more convincing big brother routine." 

Daria held up both of her hands. "Hold on, let's think a minute, here. There could be a completely reasonable explanation that doesn't involve them and sex." 

"That is a completely reasonable explanation." 

"Oh, yeah." 

After taking time to think, John said, "So, do we assume Quinn will be responsible and we do nothing, or assume not and barge in, potentially making huge idiots of ourselves?" 

"Don't forget option three: sitting here and endlessly agonizing over it." 

"How could I forget that?" 

Daria briskly shook her head. "Dammit, we kept telling everyone to trust us." 

"If we can't show the same trust┘" 

"John, that's my little sister." 

He took a deep breath. "How about this? We go down to her room and knock on the door, then tell her that if she's going to sneak someone in, she needs to be quieter." 

"That could work and it covers us both ways. We better hurry." 

They rushed down the hall and stopped at Quinn's door. They looked at each other for several seconds, waiting for the other to do something. Finally, Daria knocked on the door and said, "Quinn?" 

Squeaky, Quinn said, "Daria?" 

Daria winced and said, "When you sneak somebody into your room, silence is the best policy." 

John and Daria were left dumbfounded when Tom loudly said, "Damn, I owe you twenty bucks." 

Laughing, Quinn opened the door. Immediately behind her, Tom was taking money from his wallet. "Elsie would've been at the door within two seconds, with a tape recorder." 

Daria asked, "What gives?" 

Quinn playfully laughed again and said, "God, only you two would beat yourselves up for that long before coming down here!" 

John grumbled, "You little┘" 

After giving the twenty to Quinn, Tom stepped out of the room and placed one hand on John's shoulder. "Good try. Tonight was fun in a weird sort of way, but Quinn and I dating? Bad idea. Very bad idea." 

"But sweet of you to try," Quinn said. 

"No good deed goes unpunished," Daria replied. 

Tom waved and said, "I can find my way out. See you around, everybody. I have to admit, you're a lot more interesting than the drones at Fielding." 

Daria turned to John and poked her finger into his chest. "You are not allowed to play yenta again."

* * *

Dialog from _Jane's Addition_ by Glenn Eichler 

Thanks to DJW for why Quinn was at the Zon. 

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading. 

April 2007   



	28. Partners in Pain

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. 

This is the twenty-eighth John Lane story 

Richard Lobinske

**Partners in Pain**

Tightly grasping a rolled-up copy of the _Lawndale Lowdown_ in one hand, Ms. Li addressed the assembled faculty. "Too often, our 'student couples' are working together on team exercises and activities." The agitated principal started to pace back and forth. "The idea of cooperative projects is to learn to work with other people. That's plural - people - as in not just learning to work with one other person. From now on, students are not allowed to choose partners for classroom activities. All classroom and extracurricular activity pairs and teams will be decided randomly." 

Timidly, Mr. O'Neill raised his hand. "Ms. Li, does this have anything to do with┘" 

She barked, "That includes that school newspaper, dammit!"

* * *

"I'll be right back," Jodie told Mack as she hurried across the school corridor to Daria and John. 

"I hope that they don't kill you," Mack said in reply. 

Jodie stopped behind the couple. "Sorry guys, I have some bad news." 

"We're in Lawndale High, Jodie. Everything's bad news," Daria said. 

"This affects you directly. Ms. Li issued a pronouncement stating that any student teams must be random groupings, starting with the _Lowdown._ You two can't do any more collaborative efforts unless your assignment comes up by chance." 

John said, "I'm getting the feeling that our last bit in the paper was over the top." 

"Just a little," Jodie agreed. 

As he joined them, Mack said, "But well worth a laugh." 

Daria shook her head. "Some people just can't appreciate famous historical figures." 

Jodie said, "Between the four of us, I think it was Ms. Li with the fiddle."

* * *

Mrs. Bennett swirled her hand in a bowl filled with small slips of paper. "In real-life situations, you often have to consider others when making financial decisions, so you will work with a random partner. Tonight, you will get together with your partner to decide upon a project from the list. "Okay, the first pair is┘" She pulled two names out and read, "Mack MacKenzie and John Lane." 

John looked over his shoulder and said, "Eh, I can work with him." 

Mrs. Bennett read the next names. "Andrea Hecuba and Charles Ruttheimer." 

"Aw, man," Andrea muttered while the rest of the girls in the room sighed in relief. 

"Kevin Thompson and Jodie Landon." 

"Aw, man," Kevin said. 

"Trade ya," Andrea said. 

Kevin asked, "'Why would I want you as a partner?" 

The Goth girl slid down in her chair. "This better work off some serious bad karma." 

"No trading," Mrs. Bennett said. "Next, we have Daria Morgendorffer and Brittany Taylor." 

"Oooh, Daria, we're going to be partners!" Brittany squeaked. "Isn't that exciting?" 

Holding back her frustration, Daria said, "Almost more than I can stand."

* * *

After class, John said to Mack, "I can add my blazing mediocrity in math to the project, what about you?" 

The taller teen shrugged and said, "I'm overdrawn on my allowance since third grade." 

"Hmm, bad math and bad credit; it looks like we're going to have an interesting time. In the Chinese proverb sort of way." 

"Any preferences for what we do?" 

John looked at the list Mrs. Bennett had given out to the class. "Whatever requires the least amount of work. How about buying a car? We can go down to Honest Herb's, haggle over the price, and report back on how much we would've been screwed over a lemon." 

"Is that the voice of experience?" 

"That's where Max bought the Tank." 

Mack asked, "That's the van your brother's band uses, right?" 

"The one and only." 

"Somehow, I always figured someone had paid him to take it off of their hands."

* * *

"So, babe, what do you want to do tonight?" Kevin asked Jodie. 

Restraining her temper, she said, "How about our assignment? We should figure out what project we're going to do." 

"Yeah, yeah, we can get to that. Isn't kind of freaky that Mrs. Bennett's partner swap put Mack Daddy and John together? That's, you know, kinda┘absonormal." 

"Kevin," Jodie said very slowly, "Everyone is partnered only for the economics project. This doesn't affect our personal relationships. Mack is still my boyfriend. Brittany is your girlfriend. John is Daria's boyfriend." 

Kevin scratched his head. "All six of us? I don't know┘" 

"Kevin!" Jodie snapped. "It's a school assignment. Like when you did that maze experiment with Daria last year." 

"Oh┘Oh! I get it now." 

"Good," Jodie said with a heavy sigh. 

"You've got the Pigskin Channel!"

* * *

Reading from Mrs. Bennett's list, Brittany said, "Oooh, I want to plan a wedding. Something white and formal and dreamy and┘" 

Sitting across the cafeteria table from the cheerleader, Daria said, "I'm pretty sure that white shotguns have to be custom ordered, but if you want formal, you might as well go whole hog." 

"A whole hog? Ewww...that would be so icky at the reception." 

"Easy to feed a lot of people though," Daria said, morbidly curious where the conversation would lead. 

"No, something delicate, like _pБtИ de foie gras_." 

Holding back her surprise at Brittany's correct pronunciation, Daria said, "I agree, nothing says 'I love you' like the ground up liver of a force-fed goose." 

"But I hate liver." 

"Then we can scratch the _foie gras_. On the whole, why don't we scratch the whole wedding idea?" 

"But don't you ever want to get married?" 

Caught off-guard while drinking her milk, Daria coughed and covered her mouth while trying to recover. 

"Daria?" 

Raspy, Daria said, "I'm fine; just swallowed wrong." She reached over and took the list from Brittany, quickly scanning it. "Hmm, how about renting an apartment?" 

"Oh, Daria! Being roommates will be so much fun!"

* * *

John and Mack sat in the Morgendorffer living room with the newspaper classified ads spread on the coffee table, along with a recent copy of _Cars-4-Sale_ magazine and the Lawndale phone book, opened to the auto dealers. 

Planning, John said, "So, you'll be the one actually looking for a car and we'll use the Bluebird of Haphazard as transportation." 

A little down, Mack said, "I wish I was really looking for a car. Always depending on Jodie for a ride when we go out is getting old, but my folks really can't afford another car. Realistically, how many high school students with part-time jobs really cover all the costs of their car? I'd just end up owing my parents more money than I do already." 

Feeling guilty, John mumbled, "Sorry." 

Shrugging, Mack said, "Don't worry, it's probably better this way. I'm going to need a scholarship or two to pay for college. In the long run, keeping up with the football team and making passable grades will pay off more than having a car now." 

"I suppose." John flipped through the magazine and asked, "Do we look for something realistic or not?" 

Mack said. "If we're going to get frustrated, we might as well look at something interesting. But if we're going to learn anything, it should be realistic." 

"Hey there!" Jake said, entering through the front door. "Mack, right?" 

"Yes, Mr. Morgendorffer." 

"Call me Jake." 

"Sure, Jake." 

"What's up?" 

John said, "Economics project. Mack and I are learning about buying a car." 

"Don't you and Daria usually do school projects together?" Starting to panic, Jake asked, "Is everything all right? Where's Daria?" 

"Mrs. Bennett assigned partners. Daria's working with Brittany over at the Taylors'." 

"Oh." Shifting his gaze, he said, "So, Mack, how's your gal doing?" 

"Jodie's doing well, though this assignment may leave some scars┘she's working with Kevin." 

"Hey, how is Kevin doing?" Jake asked. 

"As clueless as ever," John said.

* * *

Sitting at the elegant table of the Landons' dining room, Kevin complained, "You can't see the living room TV from here." 

Through her teeth, Jodie said, "I know, Kevin. You don't need to see it from the dining room." 

"Cool." He started looking around the room, including under the table, "So, um, where's the TV in here?" 

"There isn't one." 

"But how can we watch the Pigskin Channel?" 

"We're not. We're working on the project for Mrs. Bennett's class." 

"But you said this would be like working with Daria on the maze thing." 

"That's right." 

"So, where can I watch the Pigskin Channel? Oh, and is Rachel going to, like, get me sodas and cook steaks?" 

Jodie coldly fixed Kevin in her sight. "Kevin, if my mother ever hears you say something like that┘you'll wish to be in another one of Ms. Barch's experiments." 

Kevin gulped. "Sorry." 

"Okay, just don't do it again." Turning the assignment page to Kevin, Jodie asked, "Is there anything on here you'd really like to do? Otherwise, I'd like to get a small business loan." 

"Ah, man, I thought you went to a bank for that." 

"It's not a loan from a small business; it's a loan to start a small business." 

Kevin nodded in faux understanding. "Ohhh, I get it." 

Jodie asked, hopefully, "No objections, then?" 

"No, but where are you going to get the money to loan out?"

* * *

Brittany sat on her bed and removed several glossy magazines from a plastic bag. "Look at all these cute ideas for decorating an apartment." 

Also seated on the bed, Daria flipped through the _Lawndale Rental Guide_ and said, "Brittany, since we're not really going to rent an apartment, we don't need to worry about decorating it." 

Brittany tilted her head and twirled a lock of hair around one finger. "But Daria, don't you need furniture and stuff?" 

Slowly lowering the magazine, Daria admitted, "If we don't find a furnished apartment, yes, we would." 

"Then we do need to think about decorating it!" Brittany happily said. 

"We could pose as college students and run by the used furniture store near Lawndale State." 

"Eww, you mean, like, buy a used bed? That's like wearing someone else's┘." 

Daria cringed and said, "Don't finish that thought. Okay, we'll also look into basic furnishings for an apartment." 

"Yes!" 

Daria sighed and rubbed her temples. "We're going to spend the rest of the evening defining 'basic', aren't we?"

* * *

Eyes glazed, Daria slumped against the doorframe of John's room. "It's gone. I couldn't stop it." 

Looking up from reading a car magazine, John said, "What's gone?" 

"My brain." 

"Your brain?" 

"Darwin wrong. Higher brain function lost. Ran away."   
"What happened?" 

"Brittany┘talking┘please, make it stop." 

John quickly rolled off the bed and held Daria, stroking her hair. "It's over and you're home." 

"Home? Home good." 

"Maybe your brain got here first." 

Daria reached around John and pulled herself closer, resting her head on his shoulder. "We'll look┘later." 

"Okay, I'm sure it'll catch up with you eventually." 

"Hel-lo!" Quinn loudly said from the hallway. "I know you like getting all snuggly and stuff, but can I get a little help here?" 

Daria tiredly turned her head. "Quinn, what is it?" Seeing what her sister was apparently doing, she became more alert and asked, "Is that a body?" 

"It's one of those many-ken things from Cashman's." 

John asked, "Why do you have a mannequin?" 

Daria asked, "And how did you get it?" 

"I ran into Tom." 

Daria and John both said, "At Cashman's?" 

"He drove his sister there to go shopping. Tom made a comment about his Mom and Dad really suggesting that he stay there with her and that when they act like that, he'd rather be at Cashman's. Or someplace called 'the Fourth Circle'; must be a cheesy teen club or something. Anyway, I was talking to him and said that sometimes it would be so much easier to put clothes on one of those┘mandy-whatevers┘so that you can step back and look." 

Walking to her sister, Daria said, "He bought you one." 

"Yeah. I think Tom did it to freak out Elsie." 

"I bet," John said as he joined them. "How did you get it home?" 

"In the back of Tom's car. It was a little creepy sitting next to it in the back seat, because Elsie absolutely refused and sat in the front seat." 

"He just dropped you off to drag that into the house by yourself?" Daria asked. 

"Um, I said I could handle it. If Mom and Dad saw Tom, you know that they would get ideas." 

Scratching his head, John said, "So, you'd rather let them see you dragging what looks like a dead body upstairs." 

Flustered, Quinn said, "Look, they were busy on the sofa and didn't see me. Now, are you going to help me or not?" 

Faintly, they heard Helen say, "Oh, Jakey┘" 

Tails fluffed, Zachary and Taylor bolted up the stairs and past the teens to hide in Daria's room. The cats' retreat spurred Daria to order, "John, grab the legs. Quinn, grab that arm and I'll get this one."

* * *

Seated with the family for breakfast, Jake slathered his reduced fat, soy-protein sausage with "Brother Vernon's Fire and Brimstone" hot sauce and asked, "So kids, what's up for today?" 

Resting her spoon on her cereal bowl, Quinn said, "The Fashion Club will hold a special meeting here tonight to work out the best ways to use a mannequin for ensemble decision making." 

"That sounds great, Quinn," he said. 

Daria eyed Jake's breakfast while he cut a section of sausage, saying, "Dad, don't you think that's a little too much hot sauce?" 

"I'm fine, kiddo." 

She shrugged and said, "Okay. After school today, Brittany and I will be working on our economics project again." 

Helen entered and went to the refrigerator, grabbing a canned energy drink and a breakfast bar. "That sounds nice, Daria. What kind of project?" 

"Mrs. Bennett assigned us to make a 'real world' economic decision. We're going to look at renting an apartment." 

"That sounds exciting. What about you, John?" Helen asked. 

"I'm working with┘" 

Helen suddenly saw the bottle in front of Jake's plate just as he was biting into his food and she exclaimed, "Oh my God! How much of that stuff did you use?" 

Talking around the food in his mouth, Jake said, "Just the right amount." 

Quinn and Daria joined Helen in gazing incredulously at Jake. John allowed a brief, knowing smirk in Jake's direction before continuing. "Anyway, Mack and I are going to look at used cars." 

"Be careful," Jake warned. "Those used car salesmen can really talk fast." His fist clenched around his fork and he growled, "I remember trying to buy my first car. 'Driven only on Sundays by a little old lady from Pasadena, Jake.'" He started to shout, "At the Pasadena drag strip!" 

"Jake," Helen cautioned, "Careful┘" 

"Oh, oh, yeah. Thanks, Helen," he sheepishly said.

* * *

While John was starting the car for the trip to school, Daria kept watching the house. "I keep expecting Dad's head to explode at any time. Did you see how much of the pyroclastic-cloud-in-a-bottle he put on his breakfast?" 

"I saw." 

Daria paused and watched her boyfriend. "You know something." 

"I saw him cut the hot sauce with ketchup last night. It's nowhere near as lethal as it was." 

"So he looks tougher than he is. Why?" 

Twisting to look back while reversing down the driveway, John said, "So that people will back off a little? Hot spices are one of the few things he likes that aren't restricted on his new diet. If it makes him feel better and eat what he's supposed to, what's the big deal?" 

"I guess I'm worried about when he inevitably forgets to dilute the hot sauce and pours some on full strength." 

"He'll scream, jump up and down and guzzle the closest thing to drink. But it'll be his choice. One of the remaining things in his life that he feels he has a choice about." 

She slowly nodded and said, "You're right. Thanks for standing up for him." 

Shifting into drive, John said, "It's a guy thing; no problem."

* * *

Wearing clashing check patterns that would make a Jackson Pollack painting look tame, the salesman at Honest Herb's overeagerly shook John's hand and said, "Hello, young man. How can I help you today?" 

Standing beside John, Mack lightly coughed and said, "I'm looking for a car." 

Shifting between the young men without a moment's hesitation, the salesman grabbed Mack's hand and said, "So, what kind of car are you looking for?" 

Mack returned the handshake and said, "Something basic and reliable." 

Starting to lead John and Mack toward the used cars, the salesman said, "Are you sure? A tall, handsome young man like yourself? Don't you think something a little more┘adventurous┘would go over better with the ladies?" 

"I have a girlfriend and would rather have something that reliably gets her home on time than something that looks flashy, but requires a lot of upkeep." 

The salesman elbowed Mack and winked. "Gotcha; you've already got one high-maintenance girl and you don't need another one." 

Noticing a glare that he'd previously only seen Mack give Kevin, John winced and thought, _This is not going well._

* * *

"Come in and please have a seat," the bank's loan officer said to Jodie and Kevin as he started a cursory exam of the paperwork Jodie had given him. Addressing Kevin as the two settled into their chairs, the officer asked, "What can I help you with today?" 

"Mrs. Bennett sent us here to get some money for class," Kevin answered. 

"I'm afraid you've filled out the wrong application." 

Jodie said, "Sir, Mrs. Bennett is our economics teacher. This is a class assignment." 

"Okay, now I see." The loan officer read the application further and said, "Mr. Thompson┘say, any relation to Doug Thompson of Thompson General Contractors?" 

"That's my dad! Do you know him?" 

"Yes, the little woman and I hired him to do the extension to the garage. I was worried when Immigration rounded up his work crew, but when he had a new one out the next day, I knew he was the man to get the job done." 

Kevin laughed a little nervously and said, "Yeah, Dad can always find workers." 

The officer nodded and turned to Jodie, who was doing a visible slow burn, and said, "Hello, you must be the power behind the man, Miss┘" 

"It doesn't matter," Jodie sharply interrupted as she stood. "I'm going to powder my nose while you men talk."

* * *

The rotund man swung the apartment door and held it open with his body. He leered down at Brittany as she squeezed past him and then turned to follow, leaving Daria in the hallway. She rolled her eyes and muttered, "Brittany's brain-busting breasts strike again." 

The landlord waved his hand around the small living room. "What do you say? This is just the right size for a couple young and eager college students. Two bedrooms, double sinks in the bathroom, oversized shower." 

Daria asked, "What about cable connection?" 

He spun and said, "One here and one in each bedroom. You gotta make arrangements with Lawndale Cable yourself." 

"That's fair," Daria said as the man once again started following Brittany around the apartment. 

Feeling something creepy from the man, Daria followed them into one of the bedrooms. There, Brittany sighed as she opened the closet door. "Oh, the sacrifices we have to make to live on our own." 

Deciding to play along, Daria said, "Don't worry, Brittany. You can use some of my closet space." 

The blonde bounded over and hugged Daria. "Oh, that's nice of you!" 

Daria noticed the landlord's grin widen and said, "Thank you, Brittany." She stepped away and looked at her watch. "Oh, look at the time. We need to get going to look at another place." 

"We do?" Brittany asked. 

"Yes, and we're running late," Daria said, letting a small amount of concern enter her voice. 

"Okay!" 

Daria perfunctorily waved to the man and said, "Thanks. We'll get back with you." 

"I'll be waiting," the landlord said. "But don't take too long." 

On their way back to her car, Brittany said, "Daria, are you okay?" 

"I'm sorry to cut it short, but the way that guy was looking at us made me nervous." 

"Oh, Daria. He was only a looker, not a grabber." 

"How can you be so certain?" 

Brittany giggled and said, "Trust me; I've been out on dates with plenty of grabbers." 

Daria shook her head. "Excuse me if I don't share your confidence. I didn't know what he might do." 

"Don't worry," Brittany sweetly said before throwing a side kick that stopped about an inch short of a street sign. "I've taken karate lessons since I was twelve." 

Stopped and with her head cocked to one side in surprise, Daria said, "That's┘something good to know."

* * *

Mack looked out of the car window as John drove into the customer parking area. "'Honest Lee's New and Used Cars.' Why have I started to get a bad feeling whenever I see 'honest' in the name of a car dealership?" 

John pulled into a space and stopped. "For the same reason it's a good idea to avoid self-proclaimed 'famous' restaurants?" 

After a short laugh, Mack said, "It's easy to tell how much you hang around with Daria." 

"I consider it a good thing." 

Only moments after they started browsing the available cars, a bald salesman rushed out of the dealership to them. "Good afternoon, young men." 

Both half-heartedly said, "Hi," and continued looking. 

Addressing Mack, the salesman said, "What kind of car are you interested in?" 

More at ease for being addressed first, Mack said, "Something basic and dependable." 

Starting to gently move the teens toward the new, compact cars, the salesman said, "You strike me as a man who places a lot of importance on dependability." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Not to dismiss our quality used cars, but if you want dependability, you really should be looking at a new car." 

"I'm afraid that a new car is beyond my budget." 

"You only think it's beyond your budget. A new car is more reliable, so you won't have to drop a couple grand a year for repairs." Pointing to a new car, he said, "This little beauty is only sixteen grand. Say you drop only eight on a used car, but end up paying two a year for repairs. Four years later, you've paid the same as the new car, which, under our easy-loan plan, you would have paid off by then. Add it up and after four years; you come out ahead with the new car." 

John said, "But, what about the interest costs?" 

The salesman dismissively waved his hand. "Good point, but the additional cost is really nothing to worry about." 

"Uh-huh." Looking back at Daria and John's car, Mack asked John, "How much have you paid in repairs for your car?" 

"We've put about six or seven hundred into it. Trent wasn't the most diligent when it came to regular maintenance." 

Mack shook his head at the salesman and pointed his thumb at the blue car. "If he can keep that thing on the road for less than two thousand a year, I think I'll stick with a used car." 

Still trying to push the sale, the bald man said, "Don't make a big mistake, based on your friend's good luck. Over time, he's going to end up paying an average of a couple grand a year for that car." 

"Only if I drop an engine or transmission every year," John answered. 

The salesman glared at him. 

Mack said, "Thank you, but I think we'll continue looking," as he turned around and walked back to the car. 

After John caught up with him, Mack said, "No offense, but I'm little surprised you brought up the interest cost. I thought you were so-so at math." 

"I am, but I've also witnessed the Morgendorffer family's cutthroat internal negotiations." 

"They negotiate interest rates?" 

Reaching the car, John said, "Trust me; with them, anything and everything is on the table." 

"And I thought the Landons were weird." 

John looked across the car roof. "I'm convinced all families are weird in some way or another."

* * *

A moment before they reached the next bank official's desk, Jodie quickly stepped forward and to the side, effectively cutting in front of Kevin. She extended her hand and said, "Thank you for meeting with us today. My name is Jodie Landon and this is┘" 

Eyes bright, the banker said, "You wouldn't happen to be Andrew Landon's daughter?" 

"Yes, I am." 

"Please, please, have a seat. What can we do for you today?" 

Jodie politely smiled and stepped aside to her chair while Kevin came forward. He said, "Hi, I'm Kevin Thompson." 

"Hi Kevin, sit down," the banker brusquely replied. 

"Okay," the boy cheerfully said, not noticing the man's dismissive attitude. 

The banker skimmed the application. "A consulting venture; I can tell that good business is in your blood." 

Jodie said, "Thank you. I've prepared an extensive business plan, if you will look at the attachments." 

The banker gave that a very brief look. "I'm sure that we can extend you a very flexible line of credit for your business." 

Wary, Jodie said, "Thank you, sir." 

"We believe in building on and supporting a winning team." 

Excited, Kevin said, "Yeah!" 

"Quiet please, young man," the banker warned. He then said, "Jodie, we can also offer excellent terms for family related businesses." 

Fully alerted, Jodie said, "I'm sure you'd profit immensely from that." 

"It would be mutually profitable." 

Jodie stood. "How would you know? You haven't even looked at the business plan." 

"Like I said┘" 

"I heard what you said, but what you mean is, 'I look forward to the commissions from bringing Mr. Andrew Landon's account to this bank.' I understand you perfectly well. Good day, sir." 

Jodie turned and jerked Kevin from the chair. "Come on, Kevin." 

The banker rose and desperately said, "Ms. Landon!"

* * *

The landlady was somewhere in her fifties, with black hair fading into silver. Carrying a black briefcase, she escorted Daria and Brittany into the apartment and said, "Please look around and ask if you have any questions." 

Though small, the rooms were clean, if a bit worn around the edges. Daria nodded approvingly as she looked around. If she were actually moving out on her own, Daria thought the apartment would be a good choice. Seeing a round window in one bedroom, Daria said, "In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit." 

"You have good taste in books," the landlady said. 

Daria shrugged. "I read it when I was eleven." 

"Most people forget that it was written as a children's book." 

Daria smirked. "Yeah, if you're the child of an Oxford English professor." 

The woman laughed and said, "I like that. So, what kind of books do you read now?" 

Examining a built-in bookshelf, Daria said, "A mix of almost anything that looks interesting. Currently, I'm reading _Purgatorio_." 

"Ah, you want to see what happens next." 

"I want to find out how long it takes Dante to throttle Virgil." 

The woman stopped for moment before laughing again. "Yeah, it gets a little preachy." 

Daria asked, "You seem to have a good taste in books, too." 

Brittany entered and asked, "Wow, you already have shelves in the room. I can show off all of my stuffed animals!" 

The landlady sarcastically said, "That shouldn't put any strain on the shelves." 

"Okay!" Brittany said and wandered into the living room. 

To Daria, the landlady said, "Back on topic, I'm rereading _I Robot_." 

"There was a time when I felt a lot like Susan Calvin, and probably acted the same, too." 

"Hey, when I was growing up, I appreciated have a smart woman as a heroine for a change. That's why I reread it every now and then. To remind me of how special it felt when I read it the first time." 

"I know how you feel." 

"Do you think that yellow curtains would work well in the living room?" Brittany said, interrupting. 

"As long as you don't live like a pig and ruin the carpet," the landlady said, "I really don't care what you hang up." 

Quietly, Brittany said, "Oh, okay," and walked to the kitchen. 

Daria's eyes followed the usually cheery blonde. "This has been nice, but we should talk about what kind of lease options you have available." 

The landlady opened her briefcase and extracted a contract. "You can choose semester or one year leases." 

"Semester?" 

"I get a lot of college students. Makes things a lot easier to lease for a semester than to deal with the mess sublets tend to make filling in on a longer lease." 

"Oh, I see." 

"Why don't we walk over here and discuss the details. I don't think that we need to bother your companion with these details. You're clearly the brains of the outfit." 

Daria looked back at the kitchen and saw Brittany watching them. She knew the look of sadness from exclusion and the sense that one was invisible all too well. How it felt to be left out because you didn't "get" the conversation. Suddenly uncomfortable, Daria muttered, "Yeah, the brains."

* * *

Walking through the parking lot of Pizza Prince, Kevin told Brittany, "I can drive, babe." 

"I'm fine," she irritably replied. "I'll drive." 

"Sure?" 

"Yes, I'm sure." 

"Okay, I┘Hey, Mack Daddy!" Kevin called, seeing John's car drive in. 

After the car parked, Mack stepped out and said, "Hi, Kevin. Hi, Brittany." 

John gave a weak wave and said, "Hey, folks. Are Daria and Jodie inside?" 

Brittany briefly glared at Kevin and said, "They're waiting for you, unlike some people that can't wait." 

Apologizing, Kevin said, "But Brit, I was hungry." 

The blonde grabbed his hand and yanked him toward her car. "Come on, Kevin." She called to the others, "Bye!" 

John and Mack waved and shook their heads as they went inside, stopping at the front counter to buy a slice each and a drink. Mack said, "I don't know why those two haven't killed each other." 

"Outside of cheerleader and quarterback, and a lack of interest in studying that makes me look like a bookworm, they don't have much in common, do they?" John observed. 

Walking to the booth occupied by Jodie and Daria, Mack suggested, "Maybe they stay together because of the sex." 

Before John could answer, they heard Jodie angrily say to Daria, "I spent hours working on that business plan and he didn't even read it." 

"But he said yes," Daria replied. 

"Only because I'm Andrew Landon's daughter and he wanted an edge to get some business from Dad." 

"You wanted to get the loan based on your work, not your father's name." 

"Damn right. Do you know how often I've been called 'Andrew Landon's little girl?'" 

Daria said, "I'm going to guess way too many." 

"Trouble with the econ project?" Mack asked, sitting next to his girlfriend. 

Jodie rested her head on his shoulder. "And the Landon shadow." 

"Ah, that. I think I'd prefer businesses sucking up to trying to give me the shaft." 

Daria asked, "It sounds like you two are also having wonderful 'real life' experiences in economics." 

John sat and said, "Mack, you must admit that 'creative' only begins to describe some of the financing plans pitched at you today." 

Daria asked, "How many wanted your soul as a down payment?" 

"Souls don't seem to be worth what they used to, but organs seem popular," John said. 

"My day sucked, your day sucked," Jodie said. "Daria, what about you?" 

"I had an interesting conversation with the landlady of one apartment we looked at." 

John put his arm around Daria. "Good, so somebody's day didn't suck." 

She sighed and said, "Until I noticed that we were completely ignoring Brittany. Not just ignored, brushed her off. I┘I remember too many times that's happened to me. It doesn't feel any better to be on the other side." 

John mumbled, "Oh." 

Mack said, "So that's why Brittany was in a bad mood." 

"That, and Kevin ate her pizza between the counter and here," Jodie explained. 

"That's justifiable homicide," John said. 

Daria slowly took a drink through the straw of her soda before saying, "It bothers me how easily it happened. I didn't notice until too late." 

Jodie said, "You know, once that banker knew my name, he treated Kevin like he was my houseboy or something. It was kinda rude." 

Daria looked straight at Jodie. "We're feeling guilty for taking attention away from Kevin and Brittany." 

Jodie replied, "Yeah, damn consciences." 

Mack asked, "What are you going to do?" 

"Change the conditions of the assignment," Daria replied.

* * *

Standing before Mrs. Bennett's class, John read from his notes, "Ultimately, we were more successful than Diogenes. We found a bank repo lot that would sell us a car for the amount owed┘in cash." 

Mack said, "In the end, our biggest lesson was, caveat emptor, let the buyer beware." 

Seated at her desk, Mrs. Bennett completed some notes and said, "Thank you, John and Mack. Next, we have Charles and Andrea." 

Scowling, Andrea walked to the front of the room. "My partner was unable to attend today due to an┘accident, but I'm here to provide a full report. We were unable to decide upon a project, so we agreed to throw a dart at the list. It landed on elective surgery. Out of simplicity, we tried to find out about cosmetic surgery from a local practitioner, Dr. Franken┘Shar." 

Daria whispered, "This can only end badly." 

Several minutes later, Andrea finished with, "So, once Dr. Shar found out we were only doing a class project and wouldn't actually spend $35,000 for her services, she had her goons, uh, security staff, escort us from the building. Upchuck's little accident happened when some 'samples' fell out of his pocket. Security guards never seem to have a sense of humor. Anyway, I definitely learned that you can spend a lot of money getting your face re-arranged by a doctor, or you can have it done for free by someone named Bruno." 

Disturbed, Mrs. Bennett said, "Thank you, Andrea. I hope Charles feels better, soon. Jodie, Kevin, you're next." 

Jodie led Kevin to the front of the class and stopped, holding her notes. Kevin stopped behind and to the side, dramatically standing with hand on his hips. While she talked, he occasionally shifted position, still trying to look important. 

Jodie said, "Before we started the quest to finance a small business, we knew that we had to have everything lined up properly. Therefore, a detailed business plan was assembled, including projections for startup costs, operating expenses for two years and minimum sustainable revenues." 

Jodie moved to the next page. "However, for people our age, this proved to be irrelevant. Like some kind of feudal financial system, who our parents were meant more than what we planned to do with the money, or even if we had a plan. When we hid our identities, our business plan was given a closer look. Even though it was consistently praised, we were just as consistently denied funding because of our age." 

Moving the last page of notes, Jodie said, "All in all, the biggest thing that I learned was that if I want to start a business on my own merits, I'm going to have to go someplace that's never heard of the Landon Folding Coffee Cup." 

Looking down, Mrs. Bennett said, "Um, thank you, Jodie and Kevin. Next are Daria and Brittany." 

Brittany trotted up to the front of the class while Daria walked. Brittany waved and said, "Hi, everybody. We went looking for an apartment."   
Daria reached the front and turned. "Specifically, we looked for a two bedroom apartment like college students rent. Therefore, we focused our attention on the student housing around Lawndale State University." 

Brittany said, "Wow, those apartments were expensive. And they were so tiny; hardly any of them had a closet big enough for my clothes." 

"In a classic example of supply and demand," Daria said, "Student-type apartments near the college were highly sought after; therefore, the owners were able to charge premium rents. In addition, many were small and supplied with only the most basic amenities." 

"Some of the landpeople were really rude and didn't seem to care if we liked the place or not," Brittany said. "Some didn't even act like we were there." 

Daria nodded and said, "Because of the high demand, property owners were not concerned about their ability to rent an apartment. The process was geared more toward selection of what the owner thought was a better tenant and not toward trying to convince a prospective renter to stay." She paused, and then looked at Brittany. "Some even hinted that one applicant or the other wasn't welcome." 

"If you need a roommate, you should find someone like Daria. She was really good at figuring out those lease thingies." 

Moving to the next note, Daria said, "Like Mack said earlier, 'Let the buyer beware.' Or in this case, let the renter beware. Once we found an apartment agreeable to both of us, we made sure to read the lease closely so that we knew what we were responsible for and what the owner was responsible for. And┘if you want to live in something other than a dull box furnished with milk crates and futons, consider finding a roommate like Brittany." 

Brittany said, "We made a great team." 

"Yes, Brittany, I guess we did." 

"Thank you, Daria and Brittany," Mrs. Bennett said. "We only have a couple minutes left before the bell. Any questions?" 

John raised his hand and asked, "Is the business world of Lawndale as corrupt and incompetent as you expected us to find?"

* * *

Dropping into the passenger seat of the car, John threw his pack into the back seat and grumbled, "Boy, Mrs. Bennett sure got bent out of shape over my question." 

Settling into the driver's seat, Daria said, "Maybe she was under the delusion that Lawndale was a bastion of honesty and integrity despite the fact that she works for Ms. Li." 

"People who live in imaginary houses shouldn't send students out into the real world." 

Daria smirked as she backed the car from the space and then pulled away from the school. 

On the road, John asked, "Did you and Brittany actually find an apartment you could agree on?" 

Daria said, "It took a little negotiation, but yes." 

"Considering how different you two are, wow." 

"We┘had to learn to take each other's opinion into consideration. After that, Brittany and I were able to present a unified front so that neither of us would be ignored." 

"A united front? With Brittany┘" 

Daria curtly snapped, "Don't say it." 

"Okay, okay. Warning shot noted." 

"Sorry, but I did learn that there's more to Brittany than her most famous assets. Something she feels she needs to keep quiet about, for now."

* * *

Brittany sat on her bed and twirled a pair of stage glasses in her hands. Daria had been right: the apartment owners treated her differently when they saw the glasses, just as they had treated Daria differently simply for undoing the top button on her shirt. They were only small changes, but instead of seeing the Brain and the Blonde, they saw two smart, cute women. 

She gently placed the glasses on her nightstand and walked to the room door, making sure that it was locked. Reassured, Brittany went to her closet and used a small stool to reach the top shelf, where she retrieved a red, spiral-bound notebook. Taking a pink pen from her desk on the way, Brittany returned to her bed and sat with the notebook braced against her knees. Slowly, she read through the old poems until she found a blank page and started writing. 

_Not So Alone_

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading. 

May-June 2007   



	29. The Snows of Mt Lawndale

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. 

This is the twenty-ninth John Lane story 

Richard Lobinske

**The Snows of Mt Lawndale**

Under a flickering streetlamp behind McGrundy's Pub, Trent tied his guitar to the roof of his former car, along with more of Mystik Spiral's band instruments. He said, "Johnny, Mrs. M sounded a little cranky on the phone." 

Interrupting his attempt to figure out how the entire band was going to fit into the car, John said, "Getting calls at 11:30 at night tend to do that to her┘unless they're from her boss. They don't do much for me, either." 

Pulling a bungee cord tight, Max said, "I'm gonna fix the transmission and have the Tank back on the road in no time." 

"You picked up all the gears, right?" Jesse asked. 

"Yeah, I got all of them," Max said, also irritated. 

Nick called, "Shotgun!" and hopped into the front passenger seat. 

Trent moved in after him and said, "Good, you can move over." 

"Man, that's not fair," Nick protested. 

John sighed and opened the driver's door. "Let's get out of here; I have class tomorrow." 

"There's only room for one in back," Max complained. 

"I'm not letting anyone ride on the roof," John said. "Guess one of you will have to sit on the other's lap." 

Max said, "We're hard core rockers; we don't sit on each other's laps." 

"Then walk." 

Max grumbled and said to Jesse, "Rock, paper, scissors?"

* * *

Trying to talk around Jesse's shoulder, Max asked, "Are we there yet?" 

"Almost," John answered. 

"Can't this thing go any faster?" 

"Not with all this junk on it." 

Nick said, "Junk? These are first class musical instruments." 

John said, "Okay, not with all these first class musical instruments on it." 

Max groaned, "Are we there yet?" 

John stopped the car next to Trent's apartment behind Axl's Piercing Parlor. "Yes, we're here. You really could've walked; it's only about six blocks." 

Pushing on his band mate, Max ignored John and said, "Move it, Jesse. You're killing me back here." 

Opening the door and crawling out, Jesse said, "Guess it's a good thing I didn't have the chili for dinner." 

Standing as he left the car, Trent said, "Yeah, Jesse. That's a good thing." 

Rubbing his eyes, John said, "Let's get this stuff unloaded so I can go home." 

Trent said, "Oh, yeah, Johnny, I need another favor." 

Dreading the answer, John said, "What's that?" 

"If the band crashes at my place, we won't have room for the gear." 

Nick crawled out and started untying the load. "Yeah, we usually keep the nonessential stuff in the Tank." 

"You want me to store the extra stuff until the Tank is fixed." 

"Thanks, Johnny," Trent said. "I knew you'd understand."

* * *

Getting into the passenger seat the next morning, Daria said, "What's that smell?" 

Pointing his thumb at the back seat, John said, "I think it's from a burned out amp." 

"Uh, huh." Daria looked at the junk in the seat and asked, "By the way, did you check it for extra passengers, like rats?" 

"Trust me; nothing could live in Mystik Spiral's gear. I once watched a roach run away from the mixing board." 

"Don't you think that should be telling you something?" 

"That their music is more dangerous than radiation?" 

Daria nodded. "Therefore, leaving it in the car is like leaving a pile of reactor waste in it." 

"Nah, I'm sure the reactor waste would be safer." 

"How long is it going to be in here?" 

John started the car and said, "Until the Tank is fixed." 

"Great, that could take weeks." 

Backing up the car, John said, "It's not like we carry a lot of stuff around; and hey, we put five in here last night." 

"I'm not going to ask how."

* * *

Near the end of class, Mr. O'Neill excitedly picked up a sheet of paper. "Class, in my hands, I hold a piece of paper which has the potential to open up a world of positive experiences." 

John said, "Mandatory boredom testing for teachers?" 

Mr. O'Neill pretended not to hear and said, "A sign-up sheet for an overnight hill trek. An excellent opportunity to understand the primal struggle for survival we made it through together in _The Call of the Wild_." 

"That was a struggle to stay awake," Daria said to John. 

"I'm a Lane and staying awake is always a primal struggle," he said in return. 

"Two days and a night with our fellow classmates. The primal struggle will be with ourselves to keep from strangling them." 

John pondered a moment and said, "Hmm, I wonder how much we could scam out of your parents to go." 

"You're learning well the ways of the Morgendorffer, young Master Lane."

* * *

"Oooh! This Titanic edition chenille gorp bag is to die for," Quinn said as she wandered out of the kitchen, reading an outfitter's supply catalog. 

Helen leaned against the counter and gazed at Daria and John, still at the table eating dinner. "You two have been very quiet about this overnight field trip. Knowing that all three of you are away in safe, supervised activities would give Jake and me some valuable time together. But you knew that, didn't you?" 

Both teens nodded. 

Helen said, "What's your price?" 

Daria said, "Fifty, each." 

"Thirty," Helen replied. "And, you drive Quinn to school." 

John said, "Gas, plus wear and tear on the car." 

Helen frowned. "Forty, and don't forget, I have legal authority over both of you." 

"Forty should do it," Daria said. 

Helen turned to her husband. "Jake, pay them." 

He looked up from his newspaper. "Huh?" 

"Ahh! Jake, just pay them," Helen said and left the room. 

Jake pulled his wallet out. "How much was I supposed to pay you?" 

John and Daria looked at each other and smirked.

* * *

Wedging their packs on top of the dead band equipment, John said, "We're packing for cold weather up on a mountain and your folks are heading off to the beach. Something is wrong with this picture." 

Behind him, Daria said, "Would you want them to stay someplace close to where we'll be?" 

"Nah, I want to go to the beach and let them climb a mountain." 

"You just want to see me in a swim suit." 

"A real bonus in my book." 

Struggling to carry a shoulder-slung bag, Quinn wobbled to the car. "Uh, this thing is heavy. John, can you, like, put this in the car while I get the rest?" 

John looked at the bag and then looked at the open space in the car's back seat. "Quinn, we have room for you and a small bag, or we have room for that. Take your pick." 

"What do you mean, you don't have room? I have two more bags of stuff." 

John stepped aside. "Look for yourself." 

Quinn peeked in the car and said, "Eww, what's all that junk?" 

Daria said, "Stuff for Trent's band. John's keeping it while the band gets their act together┘again." 

Quinn said, "John, why don't you unload that stuff to make room for my bags?" 

He answered, "Because I'm too lazy to unload and reload it. When the band picks it up, they can unload it." 

Quinn demanded, "But what about all the stuff I bought for this trip?" 

"Quinn," Daria said, "You could barely carry that bag. How do you think you'll carry three?" 

Quinn innocently said, "I'm sure some boy or two or three will help me." 

"We're going to be late. Quinn, pick out what you can carry and leave the rest. We need to go." 

"You just don't understand!" Quinn yanked the bag off of the ground and carried it back inside, grumbling under her breath the entire time. 

Once her sister was out of earshot, Daria said, "You, worried about being late to a school function?" 

"Sorry, best I could do on short notice." 

Several minutes later, Quinn reappeared and stomped toward Daria and John while carrying a pink backpack and an old towel. "Are you happy now?" 

"We're going to spend the weekend with our classmates┘" John said. 

Daria completed, "┘do you think we're happy?" 

Quinn opened the towel and covered the band gear before getting into the back seat. "I'm going to be fashionably unprepared. Do I look happy?" 

John pushed the seat back into place. "Then we're on the same page."

* * *

At school, they could hear Mr. DeMartino call, "Good morning, students. Please be so gracious as to haul your milk-fed buttocks onto the bus!" 

Walking to the chartered bus with John while Quinn walked a bit to the side, Daria said, "He's in a good mood this morning." 

Standing beside the bus and loading students' packs into the luggage bin, Ms. Barch snapped, "Hurry up! You don't want to be left behind!" 

Daria grabbed John's shoulder and said, "Don't say it. This is way too early in the morning to hear one of her rants." 

"How about if I hold off until Kevin starts to sing? If anything will stop him, it's that." 

As Quinn reached the rest of the Fashion Club, Sandi said, "Oh Quinn, you had to ride here in that? What could you possibly have done to deserve such punishment?" 

She replied, "I wasn't punished, I just, well, Mom and Dad went to the beach and┘said that Daria and John had to give me a ride." 

"If you don't want to tell us, that's fine," Sandi said. "But on to business. We need to show everyone else how you can be practical as well as fashionable on these trips. Right?" 

"Oh yes, Sandi," Stacy said. "Some of these people are dressed way too practical." 

Tiffany said, "Yeah, practical. It's like they forgot how to be fashionable." 

Sandi dramatically sighed and said, "Our duty calls."

* * *

As the bus pulled into a parking area at the base of the mountain, Ms. Li walked down the aisle, passing out bill caps with "Lawndale High Wilderness Adventure Club" printed on the front. 

Stacy held her cap and whined, "Do you know how bad my pigtails stick out when I wear a hat?" 

Holding hers with the bill pinched between thumb and forefinger, Sandi disdainfully said, "This is simply unacceptable. We cannot risk catastrophic hat hair." 

"How can we stand out when we look like everyone else?" Tiffany said. 

The principal sternly looked at the girls. "You'll wear them if you want continued funding for the Fashion Club." 

Daria said, "When did Lawndale get a 'Wilderness Adventure Club', and how did I get enrolled?" 

"When you signed up for this trip, Ms. Morgendorffer. Your mother's a lawyer; you should really learn to read the fine print." 

"What fine print?" Daria asked 

"It was printed across the bottom after the signature lines." 

"There was a line across the bottom." 

Ms. Li snickered. "That was the fine print. Oh, the joys of 2 point typefaces." 

John said, "Note to self: inspect all school papers with a microscope." 

At the back of the bus, Ms. Li pointed to Mr. O'Neill, who was preparing a video camera. "Mr. O'Neill will record our exciting trek to the summit for Extreme Sports Mania Worldwide Inc., 'Hanging ten on the edge of the apocalypse', and the greater honor and glory of Lawndale High." 

Daria said, "I smell funding." 

"Let's hope we don't step in it, "John replied. 

Daria looked at her hat. "I think it dropped on our heads."

* * *

Joey shoved Jamie and said, "I'll get it!" 

Jeffy body-blocked Joey and said, "I will!" 

Jamie rolled around the others and dove for Quinn's backpack. "I'll carry it!" 

Ms. Barch stormed over to the fighting boys and grabbed Joey and Jeffy by the hair. "Stop it right now, you Neanderthals!" Aiming a foot at Jamie, she kicked him on the rump. "Or I might have to do something drastic!" 

"Yes, ma'am!" "Gotcha, Ms. Barch!" "We're cool!" the boys said over each other. 

Ms. Barch pushed the boys away and turned to Quinn before pointing to the backpack. "Quinn! Now pick that up and carry it like a woman!" 

"Yes, Ms. Barch," Quinn said, carefully picking up her pack and slinging it over her shoulders. 

Ms. Barch spun around and barked at Mr. O'Neill. "You dropped your inhaler!" 

Wobbling under the weight of his backpack, camera on one shoulder and microphone boom on the other, Mr. O'Neill looked down and said, "Oh my, I wouldn't want to be on the trail without my backup." 

When he reached for the inhaler, he fell over onto his face. Mr. DeMartino walked over and pulled him up while saying, "Mack, John, put a leash around Kevin and get the field supplies. Something around here needs to be in competent hands." 

John said to Mack, "Did we just get a compliment from Mr. DeMartino?" 

"Yeah, but we also have to keep an eye on Kevin," Mack said. 

John shrugged. "No good deed goes unpunished." 

Jodie whispered to Mack, "I saw that look in your eye. No, you can't use a noose on Kevin as a leash."

* * *

Wheezing and leaning against a tree, Mr. O'Neill turned and pointed the camera down the trail to film the students. 

Nearing him, Tiffany said, "This hat feels so wrong. My head is hot and┘eww." 

"I'm going to have to redo my hair," Stacy said. "When are we going to get to that base camp place?" 

Mr. DeMartino, walking back along the students' path, said, "We're at least two hours away, Ms. Rowe." 

"Two hours!" she squeaked. 

"I'm sure you've spent more time walking through malls." 

"But we usually have a cute boy to carry our stuff," she explained. 

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but Ms. Barch was right. Learn to carry your pack like a woman!" Mr. DeMartino barked and moved on. 

Wheezing louder, Mr. O'Neill muttered, "Darn pollen," before pulling an inhaler from his pocket. 

Walking by him, Daria said, "Inconsiderate wildflowers that insist on reproducing and not caring what other species they expose." 

John said, "They could at least practice safe sex. We don't know where they've been and who knows what they're spreading around?" 

A shrill bark came from high in the tree over Mr. O'Neill's head, followed by hurried scratching sounds. A moment later, two squirrels spiraled down the tree, one chasing the other and still barking loudly. They bounded off of Mr. O'Neill's head as he inhaled his medication, causing the teacher to panic and try to leap away, falling face-first on the ground. 

Daria said, "Uh-oh, teacher down." 

Chattering, the squirrels ran at full speed down the trail, scattering students as if they were a pair of bears instead. 

Looking at the line of confusion, John said, "Killer squirrels. Gotta love 'em." 

"Good thing they didn't want parent chaperons this time. Can you imagine what Dad would've done?" 

"Can I include collateral damage in what I imagine?" 

Calmly walking past the others, a quiet blonde, Jennifer, said, "If they can take out Dr. Doom┘" 

Ms. Li ran past her and stopped at Mr. O'Neill's prostrate form. "Mr. O'Neill!" 

Dazed, he lifted his head and replied, "Huh?" 

"Is the camera all right?" 

"I'm┘I'm fine. Just a little dizzy." Mr. O'Neill tried to push himself up, but slumped back to the ground. 

"I didn't ask about you. Is the camera damaged? We can't get that sponsorship from Extreme Sports Mania Worldwide Inc. without good summit footage! If we don't get it, the money's coming out of your budget!" 

Watching, John said, "Wow, such motherly concern." 

"She carried that camcorder for nine months," Daria said. 

John raised an eyebrow. "I wonder who the father was." 

"I don't," was Daria's reply.

* * *

Rubbing her hands together and watching the dark clouds overhead, Daria said, "I swear it's getting colder and I don't like those clouds." 

John said, "We're being led by the fearless Principal Li. What could possibly go wrong?" 

"You mean, besides a spring blizzard? I hope that they packed real food in those bags." 

"Yeah, I'd be really ticked off if I'd spent all this effort hauling fake food." 

Behind them, Mr. DeMartino muttered, "If you call MREs real food. Hah! In my day, we had C-rations. Real food in real cans, not some paste in a pouch!" 

Daria said, "A valuable experience I'm sure we'll all miss." 

Looking up at the white flakes gently falling, John said, "You had to mention a spring blizzard, didn't you?" 

"Hey, Mr. O'Neill wanted us to experience the _The Call of the Wild_, and it wouldn't be complete without a blizzard." 

Ms. Li addressed the other students, most of whom had stopped and were looking up at the snow. "There's no need to talk about a blizzard; it's only a little snow. We'll reach base camp soon, anyway. Now everybody, march┘fast." 

Daria looked back along the line of students. "Which one do you think will be eaten first?"

* * *

Grumbling, Ms. Barch held Mr. O'Neill up while the camera recorded the students reaching the base camp bunkhouse, an aged and worn wooden structure that promised little, if any insulation and plenty of drafts. Driven by a fast wind, the snow was falling heavily and a couple of inches had already accumulated on the ground. 

After Mack and Jodie, the last students, entered the cabin, Ms. Li waved Ms. Barch and Mr. O'Neill in and then entered the cabin herself. 

Jodie was already crouched next to the supply bags and opening one. "Daria, can you help me hand out food and blankets?" 

"Hmm, that would mean I could get my choice of meals." she said. 

Looking at several MRE packs in her hands, Jodie said, "Sure, you have a choice of Beef Patty, Beef Patty, or Beef Patty." 

Sighing, Daria joined Jodie and pulled two aside. "I'm a risk-taker; I'll take the Beef Patty." 

Ms. Barch pushed Mr. O'Neill into the room. He staggered, turned and sat flat on the floor in front of the door while she closed it. He cried, "Ouch," and then looked around. "Are we home?" 

Ms. Barch pulled him aside, muttering, "Just like a man, letting me pull all the weight." 

Trying to ignore the teachers, Ms. Li said, "┘44, 45. Okay, with Mr. DeMartino outside collecting firewood, everyone's here. Now students, I want everyone to line up neatly by the supplies and we'll┘oh." 

They were already forming into a messy line to get food from Jodie and Mylar thermal blankets from Daria. 

Daria said to the students, "Genuine Y2K brand blankets, guaranteed to last until the next millennium, no matter how bad things may turn out." 

Tiffany looked at her blanket and said, "This is really shiny." 

Sandi took hers and said, "Is this a joke? I want a real blanket." 

"No joke, "Daria said. "It's a survival blanket that reflects body heat back to you. It doesn't have to be thick." 

"Uh, if you say so. But if I catch a cold, I'm blaming you." 

Quinn was next in line. She discreetly looked at Sandi and rolled her eyes for Daria to see. "Thanks." 

"Will this make me fat?" Tiffany asked Jodie when accepting her food. 

"Can we like, get a salad?" Sandi asked. 

Jodie answered, "Tiffany, it won't make you fat and no, Sandi, you don't have a choice." 

Following Quinn, Stacy whispered to Daria and Jodie, "I wish I had someone to help keep me warm tonight." 

"If it's any consolation," Daria said. "I'm sure Ms. Li will go to great lengths to keep couples apart. We wouldn't want any embarrassing incidents┘as if anyone would try something in a room with forty other people." 

Ms. Barch yelled, "Kevin, Brittany! Stop that! This is not the back seat of a car!" 

Daria corrected, "Okay, as if anybody with an ounce of shame would try something."

* * *

"It's better than frozen lasagna," Daria said, dropping her plastic spoon into the empty MRE pouch. She sat cross-legged on a crude bunk with John beside her, also cross-legged. Each had a thermal blanket over their shoulders and the heater packs from their meals in the open space between their legs. 

Looking at their history teacher scraping the bottom of an olive drab colored can, John said, "Mr. DeMartino seems to have enjoyed his lunch." 

"I can't believe he actually had C-rations. You know, I don't think that food should ever be bought as surplus," Daria said. 

"What do you think we're eating?" John said, holding up an outer box marked, "US Government Property. Not for Resale." 

"Let me rephrase that. Food should never be bought as 20-year old surplus." 

"Think of it as a monument to packaging." 

Daria pulled the blanket tight around her body. "Why couldn't we be at the beach and Mom and Dad be up here on a mountain freezing their asses off?" 

"Torture, pure and simple. The universe hates us." John complained, "Too bad we can't get near the fire." 

Daria nodded to the tight cluster of students around the single fireplace. "That would mean being in close proximity to our classmates. Too close." 

Ms. Li walked around the students, watching them carefully. Noticing John and Daria, she stepped over to them. "Why aren't you with your fellow classmates?" 

John said, "I wanted to eat without somebody's elbow in my face." 

"Okay. I just hope you two don't have any ideas about sneaking off and┘doing anything you shouldn't be doing." 

"Ms. Li," Daria said. "There's a blizzard outside. I don't think we're going to be sneaking anywhere." 

"Where would we go? There's not even an outhouse out there," John said. 

This made Daria say, "Oh, by the way. Ms. Li, thank you for finding a base camp with interior plumbing." 

"Ms. Morgendorffer, I have to sit down, too."

* * *

Sitting on the floor with the other members of the Fashion Club, Quinn said, "Bored now." 

Stacy said, "Maybe we can give fashion┘" 

Interrupting, Sandi said, "We've done that." 

"What about the teachers?" Tiffany suggested. 

"Tiffany, dear, some people are simply beyond help," Sandi said. 

Quinn said, "I wish we had a radio or a CD player." 

Overhearing as he walked by, Mr. O'Neill suddenly smiled and said, "Quinn, that's a great idea!" 

"You have a CD player?" 

"We don't need one." 

Immediately worried, John said, "Unless somebody has a CD tray that pops out of their skull, he can only be suggesting one thing." 

"One of my worst nightmares is about to come true," Daria said. 

"Let's have a sing-a-long!" Mr. O'Neill said, loud enough for the entire room to hear. 

In a low voice, John said, "At least it doesn't involve pink taffeta." 

Around the bunk house, unenthusiastic moans and groans greeted Mr. O'Neill's suggestion. 

Undaunted, he said, "Come on, it will be fun. Tell you what, I'll start." 

Ms. Barch warned, "Don't even think of singing _Kumbaya_, or┘" 

He squeaked, "Eap!" 

"Not a bad idea, Mr. O'Neill," Mr. DeMartino said. "We need something to keep these razor-sharp minds from being dulled by boredom." 

Ms. Li warned, "Mr. DeMartino, you are still forbidden from singing Annette Funicello songs." 

"That's a ban I think we all can agree on," John said.

* * *

Daria watched the snowfall outside the window and said, "Brittany singing a Britney Spears song. The blizzard is looking very good right now." 

John sat with his back against the wall and sketched the others gathered around the fireplace. "Who would've thought that we'd encounter worse music than my brother's band?" 

"Where are all the masked slasher serial killers when you need one?" 

"You know that's only Hollywood. Life would never give us a break like that." 

Daria turned, sat next to him and pulled out a notepad. "Maybe you have the right idea. I guess I could try to get some inspiration from it." 

Jodie came over from the crowd and squatted in front of them. "John, your brother has a band. Think you could pitch in a little singing?" 

John said, "Jodie, my brother's in a band. But not a good band, and I sing worse than he does." 

"Please?" she begged. "If I hear one more brainless pop song, I might lose it." 

"Which would be a lot more entertaining than a sing-a-long." Daria said. 

"How about if you read what you're writing?" 

The brunette read the last couple of lines that she had written. "Blood dripped from the sturdy blade, with each drop landing in a perfect line along Brandy's pristine white blouse and ending just below her collar. Wide-eyed, the blond whimpered as the tip of the knife slowly descended to the base of her throat." 

"Okay, that's enough. Maybe you shouldn't do a reading tonight." 

"Good thinking," John said.

* * *

In a loud voice, Ms. Li announced, "Okay students, it's time to go to sleep. As a reminder, one of your chaperones will be awake at any given time during the night, so don't get any ideas that involve putting hands into buckets of warm water." 

Quinn raised her hand and said, "Ms. Li? We don't have enough bunks for everybody." 

"Some of you will have to place your sleeping bags on the floor. While we're on the subject of sleeping bags," Ms. Li said, staring hard at Mr. O'Neill and Ms. Barch, "No sharing." 

While Mack carried a bag filled with slips of paper, Jodie went around to the students. "A lottery seems like the fairest way of choosing who sleeps where. Each piece of paper in the bag Mack's holding will have 'bunk' or 'floor' written on it, so it's really simple." 

Kevin said, "What if, like, I get a bunk and Brittany gets the floor?" 

Most of the boys in the room gave him a look of, "Dude, you're on your own," while the girls watched with almost predatory delight. 

Jodie slowly suggested, "What would a gentleman do in that case?" 

"Um┘" he said, trying to think of an answer. "Is that a trick question?" 

Brittany slapped his arm. "You'd leave me on the floor?" 

"There's more room down there?" 

She slapped him on the face and then marched across the room in anger. 

Kevin said, "Aw man, it was a trick question."

* * *

A sharp pain in his side woke Mr. DeMartino in time for him to hear Ms. Barch say, "Get up, it's your turn on watch." 

He sat up and said, "Once again, Ms. Barch, I am not your ex-husband." 

With her sleeping bag wrapped like a shawl, she said, "I know, but Ms. Li won't let me kick the students." 

"Argh." Mr. DeMartino crawled out of his sleeping bag, muttering, "Next time, I bring the body armor." 

"You'll need to keep an eye on Mack and John. They're sleeping awfully close to Jodie and Daria and could make a move at any time," Ms. Barch said to alert him. 

"I would think that you'd be more concerned about Kevin and Brittany." 

"She's temporarily come to her senses and exiled him to the far side of the bunkhouse." 

"Okay. Well, get some sleep and I'll wake Timothy in two hours for the last watch." 

Ms. Barch didn't hesitate to find a spot and zip up the sleeping bag so that only a small portion of her face was visible. Mr. DeMartino went to the fire to warm up, stirring it and adding another split log. Moonlight through the windows and the fire lit the room enough to see without straining while he started making rounds. He paused at the first window, looking out. The storm had passed and the sky was clear. The fallen snow outside was already turning into muddy slush, telling him that the trip tomorrow was going to be a slippery challenge. 

Turning away, he snorted in amused contempt at Jamie, Jeffy and Joey sleeping on the floor around Quinn's bunk like circled wagons. Moving along, he heard a strange noise and tracked it to Brittany. Even her snoring squeaked. Not far away, Jodie slept on a lower bunk, looking uncharacteristically relaxed. In the bunk over hers, Mack' was lying face down with one arm hanging over the edge of the bed frame while a buzzing snore was muted by the pillow. "Oh yeah, he's a big threat," Mr. DeMartino muttered. 

Walking past Jodie and Mack, he stepped over Kevin, who was sprawled on one side with his face resting on the floor beside a pillow. "Be careful about splinters, Kevin," he said. 

On the floor under a window, he spied Daria and John in their sleeping bags. Though carefully separated by the minimum of one foot that Ms. Li had insisted upon, they slept facing each other and holding hands. The cynical air each carried was absent, leaving a boy and a girl peacefully at rest with their dreams. 

"Yeah, they're cute," Quinn said, causing Mr. DeMartino to start. 

He turned and asked, "Quinn Morgendorffer, what are you doing wandering around?" 

She pointed and said, "The bathroom's that way." 

"And may I inquire as to how you made it past your vigilant body guards?" 

"Oh, Daria stomping by in her boots couldn't wake those guys." 

"Well, hurry up with your business and get back to sleep." 

Quinn nodded and hurried to the bathroom door. She stopped there and turned, saying to herself, "So you've got a soft spot after all, don't you, Mr. DeMartino," before giggling and going in.

* * *

While Mr. O'Neill followed Ms. Li with the video camera, she said, "We still have a chance to reach the summit and show everyone, especially those guys at Extreme Sports Mania Worldwide Inc., that Lawndale students have what it takes when the going gets tough." 

Sliding her foot on the muddy ground, Daria said, "I don't think we're going to make good time climbing on this stuff." 

"Ms. Morgendorffer. We won't let a little inconvenience get in our way. Now students, follow me!" 

Chin up, Ms. Li started marching up the trail at a fast, steady pace. Before she'd gone twenty feet, her right foot slipped on the mud and Ms. Li fell forward, unsuccessfully reaching for a tree branch to stop her fall. However, the attempt did twist her in mid-air so that she landed on her backside instead of her face, so that the students could see her look of surprise as she slid down the trail, picking up speed along the way and flailing her arms to grab at anything. 

Filming the entire sequence of events, Mr. O'Neill called, "Don't worry, I got everything!" as Ms. Li disappeared from sight. 

Daria turned to Mr. DeMartino and motioned her hand in the direction Ms. Li had gone. "I think gravity is trying to tell us something." 

He addressed the crowd, "All right, students, you heard Ms Li. Follow her!" 

John said, "Five says Kevin takes him literally." 

Daria, Jodie and Mack shook their heads. Daria said, "You know I don't take sucker bets," as they watched Kevin slide down the trail on his backside. 

"I hope he wears a cup with his uniform, or he's going to regret the first rock or branch sticking up along the trail," John said.

* * *

Tanned and rested, Helen relaxed on one of the sofas and greeted the returning teens. "Hi, kids. How was your trip?" 

Daria said, "I think I'd gave gotten more out of an entire weekend spent watching infomercials." 

John grumbled, "Be glad you didn't get tapped for stretcher duty to drag Ms. Li's sorry ass off of that hill." 

Quinn said, "Look at the bright side; you didn't have to carry Kevin." 

John nodded. "Yeah, for once, wearing his football pads was the right thing to do. But still, that tree must've hurt." 

Daria said, "He hit head first. I feel sorry for the tree." 

"Hmm, good point," John said. 

"Stretcher duty? Was Ms. Li hurt?" Helen asked. "Does she need a lawyer?" 

John shrugged. "She slid about a quarter mile downhill in the mud. The paramedics said that there probably wasn't anything hurt, except for maybe her pride." 

"Mom, don't get excited about billable hours. She only has herself to blame." 

"Oh. Is there anything else I should know about?" 

John said, "Blizzard." 

Daria said, "Trapped in a bunkhouse." 

Quinn said, "Boring." 

Also tanned, Jake lazily came down the stairs. "The beach is great this time of year. We should take you kids sometime." 

John, Daria and Quinn all glared at him as they passed going upstairs. He looked at Helen and asked, "Did I say something wrong?"

* * *

A couple weeks later, Daria lounged on John's bed, channel surfing while he painted. When something familiar caught her eye, she stopped and watched. 

On shaky video footage, Ms. Li was shown sliding down the hill, followed by a cut to Kevin doing the same while an announcer said, "Coming up next on Extreme Sports Mania Worldwide┘the Lawndale High Extreme Sports club shows us the outer edge of downhill action after the snow is gone. Mountain mud sliding! We'll talk to their team captain, Kevin Thompson and their faculty sponsor, Angela Li." 

Daria shook her head and said, "Now we know for certain that it's possible for someone to have no shame." 

Looking up, John said, "Only Ms. Li could make money off of falling on her ass."

* * *

Some dialog from:   
_Antisocial Climbers_   
Written by Jill Cargerman 

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading. 

June 2007   



	30. A Test of Honor

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. 

This is the thirtieth John Lane story 

Richard Lobinske 

**A Test of Honor**

At his drawing table in the _Lawndale Lowdown_ workroom, John swiftly moved a broad-nib pen to ink a pencil drawing. Sensing someone looking over his shoulder, he turned and saw Daria, waiting patiently. 

She asked, "Are you just about ready to leave?" 

He looked at the wall clock and said, "Oops, yeah, give me a second to clean up and I'll be with you." 

He quickly rinsed the pen, dried it and capped the wash bottle. John picked up his backpack and said, "Let's go." 

Finishing things herself, Jodie said, "Bye. I'll lock up." 

Daria and John nodded and, holding hands, left the room. After a stop at their lockers, John said, "I'll meet you at the car; I need to run by the locker room to pick up my gym clothes┘they're getting a little ripe." 

Daria said, "Why'd you leave them there instead of here?" 

"I didn't want my regular locker to stink." 

"Uh-huh. They're going in the trunk." 

"No argument there." 

At a jog, he crossed campus to the gymnasium while Daria continued to the car. Near the building, he noted that football practice was winding down on the adjacent practice field and the track team was heading in from the stadium. He thought, _I better hurry up; some of the jocks still think I'm a traitor for turning down that letter in track last year._

John pushed through the side door of the gym and made a turn to pass by Coach Gibson's office. Beyond, he entered the locker room and was grateful that it was empty. He stooped to reach his small, box-like gym locker and dialed the combination quickly. While closing the locker after retrieving his gym bag, he heard footsteps entering the room. 

Kevin, scratching his neck, looked up from a sheaf of paper and said, "Oh, hey John. What are you doing here?" 

"Grabbing my gym clothes before they grow legs and run off on their own." 

"How would they grow legs?" 

John shook his head. "I'm taking them home to be washed." 

"Oh, why didn't you just say so?" 

"Being a smartass, I guess." 

Hesitant, Kevin asked, "You're like, smart in other places too, right?" 

_If I see Rod Serling, I'm running. _ "Um┘what do you mean, Kevin?" 

"You've been hanging out with Daria and you've picked up some brain smarts too, right?" 

"You could look at it that way, I think," John said, still utterly confused about what Kevin was doing. 

Kevin looked back down at the paper in his hand. Curious, John also looked and then exclaimed, "Holy crap! That looks like Mr. DeMartino's next test." 

"Yeah. Uh┘Brit's been onto me again to ask your advice." 

"Kevin, a stolen test is not a good gift for Brittany." 

"It's not for her. I need a good grade so I don't get probated any more." 

"Probation?" 

"Yeah." Kevin held up the test. "But┘it feels like putting that balloon stuff in a football." 

"Balloon stuff?" 

"Come on, you know. The stuff they put in balloons." 

"Ah, helium." Finally understanding, John said, "Kevin, it feels like cheating┘because it is cheating." 

"I guess you're right. Maybe I should let coach take care of it, like he said." 

"Kevin, that's also cheating." 

Defensive, Kevin said, "Coach wouldn't cheat." 

"Kevin, what would you say if a scorekeeper gave the other team points for a touchdown they didn't make?" 

"Cheater!" 

"A bye is the same thing. You're getting points you didn't make." 

"But┘but, I don't want to be a cheater," Kevin stammered. "Cheaters ain't cool." 

"I'm sorry." 

"I'll throw it away!" Kevin said, excited, but it cooled as he asked, "But what about the copies?" 

"You made copies?" 

"Um, yeah. For the rest of the team." 

"You need to give it to Mr. DeMartino so that he knows to make a new test." 

"No! He'll do that eye thing. It really creeps me out." 

On impulse, John grasped the page. "Here, I'll do it. I promise I won't say where I got it." 

"Promise?" 

"Yes, Kevin. I promise." 

"Cool." 

John stuffed the test into his gym bag. "I better get going." 

Kevin wrinkled his nose. "Me, too!"

* * *

John took the shortest path to Mr. DeMartino's classroom, figuring that the less time he had the test, the less risk there was of a misunderstanding. After a knock, he opened the door and was glad to see the history teacher at his desk. He opened the bag and withdrew the test. "Mr. DeMartino, I have something you need to see." 

Mr. DeMartino's nose twitched and his eyes blinked before he said, "Mr. Lane, I'm sure Ms. Barch would be more interested in the road kill in that bag than I am." 

"Sorry about the smell," John said as he hurriedly closed the bag before laying the test on the desk. "No, you need to see this." 

The teacher gripped the desk in anger and one eye flared open wide. "Where did you get that?!" 

John took a deep breath. "I talked somebody out of using it to cheat. There are other copies of the test out there. You're gonna need to make up a new test." 

"Mr. Lane, I'll ask you again. Where did you get this from?" 

"Mr. DeMartino, I gave my word that I wouldn't tell. I don't want them punished for doing the right thing." 

The teacher stood and leaned over the desk. "The right thing would be for the guilty party to come forward and not to cowardly use you as a messenger!" 

Weak, John said, "That would be best. But, I gave my word." 

"Why are you protecting a cheater?" 

The classroom door swung open and Ms. Li strode into the room. "Protecting a what?" 

Mr. DeMartino grabbed the test and thrust it into the principal's face. "Someone broke into my cabinet and stole a test. Mr. Lane will not divulge the name of the guilty party." 

Ms. Li coolly looked over the test and then turned her attention to John. "What do you have to say for yourself, young man?" 

"I talked someone out of using it to cheat and promised not to tell who they were when I turned the test in and told Mr. DeMartino that there were more copies around. The person had the chance to cheat and didn't. I think that should count for something." 

She slowly folded the test in half and said, "Mr. Lane. You should be commended for your actions. I consider the matter closed. I'm sure that you're running late, so you can be on your way." 

He said, "Yes, Ms. Li," and made a fast exit. 

Ms. Li then said to Mr. DeMartino, "I suggest that you prepare a new test┘and in the future, make sure you keep them more secure." 

"Perhaps," he suggested, "You could investigate who had copies of the keys to both the room and the filing cabinet." 

Starting to exit, Ms. Li said, "I don't think that's necessary, you just need to make sure that the locks you are provided are actually used."

* * *

Sitting in the driver's seat with the door open, Daria said, "What did you have to do, beat your gym clothes into submission?" 

He opened the trunk and tossed the gym bag inside. "No, but I just had one of the most surreal experiences of my life." 

"Coming from a Lane, this ought to be good." 

John closed the trunk and got into the passenger seat. "It all started with Kevin." 

Daria looked sidelong at him while starting the car. "Why am I not surprised?" 

"Actually, I think you will be."

* * *

Reclining on John's bed with a history book open, Daria said, "Ms. Li must be covering her ass. That's the only reason she'd let you off like that." 

Seated next to her, he said, "Or covering for whoever stole the test." 

"Like Nixon protecting his plumbers." 

"That sounds wrong on so many levels." 

"And now you're part of the cover-up." 

John rested one hand on Daria's shoulder. "I boxed myself in pretty good, didn't I?" 

She reached up to hold that hand. "Yeah, but I'll have to go with Machiavelli: 'the ends justify the means.' You talked Kevin out of cheating and derailed the plan. At Lawndale High, we have to take the small victories when we can get them." 

Comforted by Daria's soft touch, John leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Only you could make Machiavelli romantic." 

She returned the kiss. "Only you would think that." 

After a knock on the door, Helen stuck her head in the door after John and Daria separated. "Why didn't you tell me you were expecting company?" 

Daria looked at John. "We were?" 

Kevin looked over Helen's shoulder. "Hey John, hey Daria. I'm here to study for Mr. D's test, since I can't do my other┘uh┘studying." 

_I should've known this was going to turn around and bite me,_ John thought before whispering to Daria, "I'm really going to owe you for this." 

"Yes, you are," she whispered in reply. 

"Have fun, kids," Helen said and stepped out of the room to go back downstairs. 

John forced a smile and said, "We've already started; just grab a seat and join in." 

Kevin asked, "Wouldn't that be crowded and, um, kinda freaky?" 

Daria sighed and pointed to a chair next to John's easel. "Pull it over and sit down." 

Kevin grinned in relief. "Ohh, gotcha" he replied before bringing the chair over. He then sat down with an expectant look on his face. 

"Kevin┘" Daria asked, "where's your history book?" 

"In my locker." 

John passed his book to Kevin. "Here, use mine. Daria and I can share." 

"Cool, thanks." 

Daria pointed to a paragraph in the book. "We were just about to start on the Teapot Dome scandal. What can you remember about it?" 

Kevin squinted and tried hard to think. "Teapot Dome┘teapot┘um, is that one of those arena football stadiums?" 

"No football," John said. "Politics, bribery and oil." 

"Football history would be more interesting. Why do we have to learn this old stuff?" 

Daria said, "So we don't repeat it." She paused and appeared to mentally smack her forehead. "Okay, so our government hasn't learned it. That doesn't excuse you."

* * *

Brittany peered down Glen Oaks Drive and saw Kevin's jeep in the Morgendorffers' driveway, beside the old blue sedan of Daria and John. "So he is there. What is he doing? If he's after Daria or Quinn again┘.ooooh!" 

Brittany whipped her car into the driveway and barely stopped behind Kevin's before hitting it. The blonde teen gripped the steering wheel for several seconds and calmed herself. "Daria wouldn't do that and I heard that Quinn was at the mall. What's he up to?" 

Inside, Jake looked over at the door from watching TV and said, "Who could that be?" 

Helen placed a legal brief back onto the pile on the coffee table and said, "I hope Quinn hasn't double-booked again and it's some boy expecting a date. Jake, could you please get the door?" 

"But honey, my show was just getting┘oh, there's a commercial on. I'll get it." 

Jake was perplexed at the sight of Brittany at the door. Before he could say anything, she asked, "Is my Kevin here?" 

"I'm sorry, nobody named Kevin lives here." 

"But his jeep is outside." 

The conversation caught Helen's attention and she joined her husband. "Kevin is upstairs studying with Daria and John. You're Brittany, right?" 

"Wright? No, I'm Brittany _Taylor_," the teen answered. 

"Of course," Helen said. "Follow me, please." 

As soon as his wife and Brittany were heading up the stairs, Jake rushed back to the sofa. "Ha, just in time." 

At the top of the stairs, Helen explained, "They're in John's room, right there." 

"Thank you," Brittany chirped. 

Helen said, "You're welcome. Since there's such a crowd, I think I'll try to come up with some snacks for you kids." 

She continued downstairs and when she reached the end of the kitchen counter, Helen stopped to say, "It's so nice seeing them finally reaching out to their fellow students." 

Brittany looked in the door and her mouth dropped open in surprise. Her boyfriend was seated in a chair, reading a book while Daria and John sat next to each other on a bed, sharing a book. She hesitantly said, "Kevvie, are you studying?" 

He turned in complete surprise. "Brit?" 

Daria said, "Brittany, what are you doing here?" 

The cheerleader replied, "Looking for Kevin. Angie said she saw his jeep parked out front. Is he really studying?" 

"Our little secret is out," John said. Seeing Kevin's flash of panic, John added, "Yes, we're studying." 

Brittany spun a lock of hair around her finger. "Can I study, too?" 

"You didn't happen to bring a history book, did you?" Daria asked. 

"No." 

"Then you'll have to share with Kevin." 

John crawled off of the bed. "I'll get the chair from your room, Daria." 

Kevin said, "Brittany can sit on my lap." 

Daria quickly said, "I don't think we need that kind of distraction."

* * *

"Gee, Quinn, why didn't you tell us that there was some kind of get-together at your house," Sandi asked after parking next to Brittany's car. 

In the back seat, Stacy said, "It looks like Kevin and Brittany are here." 

"And isn't that your brother and sister's car?" said Tiffany, also from the back seat. 

Quinn turned and tried to answer each friend in turn. "Nobody told me about a get-together, yes, that's Kevin's car and Brittany's car, and no, John is not my brother." 

"Oh, yeah," Tiffany agreed. "That would be icky if he was." 

"Kevin and Brittany are two of the most popular juniors at school and you don't know why they're at your house? Quinn, we must have a talk about proper scheduling and record keeping," Sandi admonished. 

Quinn said, "They have classes together; it might be for some project. You really can't expect me to keep a schedule of my sister's school projects, can you?" 

"I suppose not. Let's just hope that's the case." 

Helen was nearing the stairs and carrying a tray of cheese and crackers when the Fashion Club entered. She said, "Oh my, what a busy night. I'm afraid I'll have to find something more for you girls." 

"That's okay, Mom," Quinn said. "We had dinner a little while ago and we're not hungry." 

"Okay, girls. Now, Daria and John and their friends are studying tonight, so please try to be quiet." 

Quinn ushered her friends past Helen and up the stairs. "We will, Mom." 

When the new arrivals reached the top of the stairs, they heard Brittany say, "So lots of people lost all their money, so they didn't have any to spend and that made more people lose their money and they got really depressed." 

Daria said, "Close enough, Brittany. I'm sure many people were very depressed during the Great Depression." 

Sandi carefully looked through the open door and then pushed the others down the hall to Quinn's room. "I don't know what your weird sister and her boyfriend did to Kevin and Brittany, but it's scaring me."

* * *

Quinn entered the bathroom and saw her sister, weary-eyed, staring into the mirror as if in shock. "Gee, Daria. I know you don't worry about your looks, but even you have to admit that isn't good." 

Distant, Daria said, "You try to get Kevin and Brittany up to speed for one of Mr. DeMartino's history tests and see how you look afterward." 

"Why would you want to do that?" 

"It's a long story." 

"When you say it like that, I know that I don't want to know." 

"Thank you for understanding, Quinn." 

Teasing, Quinn said, "You know that having Kevin and Brittany here will give your popularity a nice bump up." 

"I doubt if anyone is watching our house and taking notes." 

"No, but Sandi, Stacy or Tiffany will say something." 

It was Daria's turn to ask, "Why would they do that?" 

"It's news." 

"It's not news; it's at best, gossip." 

"Duh, same thing." 

"I'd have thought that they'd have something better on their minds to talk about." 

Quinn shook her head in disbelief. "Quarterback and head cheerleader visit popular outcasts┘people want to know what's going on." 

"Popular outcasts? That's an oxymoron. You can't be both." 

"Daria, you and John do your own thing and act like outcasts, but everyone knows who you are and a lot of them look up to you. You hang around with Jodie and Mack, two of the most popular kids in school, and now Kevin and Brittany stop by to visit. You're popular." 

The older sister rubbed her eyes and stepped away from the bathroom. "I need to get some sleep; you're starting to make sense."

* * *

Seated in Mr. DeMartino's class, John said to Daria, "Is it me, or are most of the football players looking at us?" 

"It's not just you, and it's not just the football team," she said. "The gossip mill has already spread word that Kevin and Brittany were at our place last night." 

"How do you know?" 

"Quinn filled me in earlier. I think she enjoyed it." 

After the bell rang, Mr. DeMartino stepped around his desk, holding a pile of papers. "Good morning, students. I hope you studied last night." 

John had to hold back a cringe at the positive noises coming from most of the football players. 

Mr. DeMartino faintly laughed and said, "Good, because I was up half the night writing this new test." 

The football players fell silent and looked at each other nervously. 

"I wouldn't want to think my efforts were for naught," the teacher said as he started handing out the exams. 

John glanced over his shoulder to see the sour expressions on the football players faces. _We're going to get blamed for this, I just know it._

* * *

After school, Mack, frustrated, slipped into the newspaper workroom. "Boy, a bunch of the juniors on the team were in a bad mood today. Coach Gibson had several of them run extra laps after some late hits on Kevin." 

Jodie said, "I noticed that a bunch of them were unhappy after the history test." 

"Maybe they're not getting the bye they expected," Mack speculated. 

John tentatively asked, "How do you think you did on the test, Mack?" 

"Okay," he said. "Probably a good 'B'." 

Jodie said, "Daria, I heard that Kevin and Brittany were studying with you last night. That's kind of a surprise." 

Daria said, "Well, it wasn't necessarily planned, it just sort of happened." 

"I ran into Kevin after school and he┘thought I invited him over to study," John said. "We couldn't really turn him away, and when Brittany showed up looking for him, she joined us." 

"You have my sympathy," Jodie said. "I know how painful studying with them can be." 

Mack sat on the desk beside Jodie and mused, "I wonder if Mr. DeMartino's comment about being up half the night making a new test had anything to do with it. Maybe they stole the test and he found out." 

"That would make a good column, if it was true. What do you think, Daria?" Jodie asked. 

"Um┘I guess so." 

"That's the kind of corruption you get riled up about." 

"Yeah, but getting information I can use will be very difficult. I'm not exactly part of the in-crowd with the football team." 

Jodie rubbed her chin. "True, but I'm sure you could get information out of Kevin." 

_I can't let Daria cover for me,_ John thought. "Jodie┘Kevin had a test and I talked him into giving it up and letting me return it. I promised not to tell Mr. DeMartino where I got it. I think that's where he got the idea he could come over to study." 

"Did he take the test?" Jodie inquired. 

"I don't know. I didn't ask, but Ms. Li closed the case real fast and sent me away with a thank you for turning it in. I bet she knows." 

Jodie sighed. "That leaves us in a fine fix." 

"Yeah," John agreed. 

Daria said, "Welcome to the wonderful world of ethical conundrums."

* * *

Returning the graded tests the next day, Mr. DeMartino said, "We had an unusual grade distribution on this test," as he handed Daria her paper with a 100 marked on top. 

To John, the teacher returned an 87 and said, "Some of you scored like I'd expect..." 

Mr. DeMartino returned several more tests in silence before giving Brittany hers, with a grade of 70, followed by Kevin's 62. "...While others scored better than expected. Keep it up, Kevin. You're now off of academic probation." 

He completed handing out the test and returned to his desk, with several papers still in his hands. One of the football players said, "Um, Mr. DeMartino, we didn't get our papers back." 

He grinned back like a predator facing its crippled prey. "Some of you managed to score considerably less than my rather low expectations. I found the number of tests that scored an 11 to be very interesting, especially considering that all of them had the exact, same answers for every question. Answers that exactly matched the test that was stolen from my office!" 

The football players looked at each other nervously before Mr. DeMartino said, "Just as intriguing, all of those tests belong to the football team, with the exception of Mr. MacKenzie and┘" The teacher clearly had to work past his surprise to continue, "Mr. Thompson." 

All of the football players focused on Kevin and their eyes burned with anger.

* * *

Kevin ran at a full sprint down the corridor, occasionally looking over his shoulder in concern. Reaching his destination, he almost slipped while trying to slow himself enough to open the workroom door. He burst in, slammed the door shut and leaned back against it. "You've gotta help me!" 

Daria, John, Jodie and a couple other _Lowdown_ staffers looked up at the frazzled quarterback. 

Daria said, "Excuse me?" 

Kevin blurted, "They're after me!" 

John asked, "Who?" as he went to the door. 

Kevin stepped into the room and backed away from the entrance. "The team." 

John opened the door and took a quick look down the corridor. Still in their practice uniforms, half a dozen angry football players were marching toward the workroom. John closed the door and said, "The angry villagers are almost here, but it looks like they left their torches and pitchforks at home." 

"Kevin, what is going on?" Jodie asked. 

"They're mad at me about the history test! Coach can't get them a bye because they were caught cheating." 

Daria said, "I'm sure the operative word there is 'caught'." 

Still flustered, Kevin said, "I didn't know it was this dangerous to be a brain!" 

"Get out here, Kevin!" somebody shouted in the hallway, followed by an unsynchronized chorus of the same thing." 

"Tell them I'm not here!" 

Jodie said, "Kevin, they know you're here." 

Kevin turned to John. "You got me into this; you need to get me out." 

The young Lane sighed and said, "You were already on the path to honesty; that's why you asked for my advice. But, I'll see what we can do." 

"Hey, the window!" 

John shook his head. "Barred shut. Ms. Li's security." 

Resigned to helping, Daria said, "Let me try." She opened the door and said, "Can I help you?" 

The players all took a small step back from the petite young woman. After a couple seconds of silence, she said, "Well?" 

One of the players said, "We want Kevin." Other players threw in, "Yeah!" 

"Any particular reason?" 

The players recovered and menacingly moved forward. "He set up us up." 

"Oh, you mean because he didn't cheat and you did?" Daria said, holding her place. 

Inside, John asked Kevin, "Did you warn them that your copy of the test had been returned?" 

"Um┘no. I, uh┘thought you didn't want me to say anything." 

John covered his face with one hand. "We agreed not to say anything about you and the test." 

"Hey!" one of the players shouted, "Everyone says Kevin was at this Darla chick's house last night. I bet she has something to do with it!" 

"Yeah!" the others loudly agreed and shook their fists. 

Trying to defuse the players' rising tempers, Daria said, "John and I reluctantly helped him and Brittany study." 

"Yeah, and how did he know to study with you?" another player yelled. "He got the test from┘" 

"What's all this noise?" Ms. Li barked from behind the football players, causing them to stop their slow advance on Daria. 

Everyone turned to face the principal, who stood with her arms folded. She waited for several seconds before saying, "Well?" 

One of the players said, "We all flunked Mr. DeMartino's test, but Kevin passed!" 

Ms. Li said, "I'm aware of the grade situation in that class. Mr. MacKenzie also passed the test. Are you going to be looking for him next?" 

Another player said, "Mack always passes; that doesn't count. But Kevin never passes." 

"Oh, well┘"Ms. Li's eyes darted around as she quickly thought to come up with an answer. She motioned to Kevin and John before saying, "Come out here and close the door." 

John and Kevin shuffled out, keeping a wary eye on the football players. 

Looking directly at Daria, and then past her at John, Ms. Li said, "Ms. Morgendorffer and Mr. Lane tutored Mr. Thompson and Ms. Taylor. I'd say that their improved scores on this test show the success of my 'Peer Tutoring' program." She sternly looked at the players. "Perhaps you young men could benefit from such a program. Maybe I should tie your athletic eligibility to staying in it." 

The players looked at each other in panic. Before they had a chance to try to bring their thoughts together, Ms. Li said, "I'm sure Coach Gibson is waiting for you. Go back to practice." 

Knowing that they'd been put in their place, the football players muttered, "Yes, ma'am," and as a group, made almost as fast of an exit as they had made an entrance. 

Daria raised an eyebrow. "Peer Tutoring?" 

"Yes, Ms. Morgendorffer. Although, I think it may need more visibility. Such as, tutoring on campus at Lawndale High." 

Dreading where the principal was going, John said, "Ms. Li, Daria and I are already busy every afternoon with the school paper." 

Ms. Li's smile made John's skin crawl. She said, "And Mr. Thompson and Ms. Taylor have practice every afternoon, also. Therefore, we'll have to find time during the day, such as during your Physical Education class." 

Daria lifted her other eyebrow. "Oh?" 

"I'm sure Ms. Morris would agree that it would be a better way for you to contribute to the athletic honor and glory of Lawndale High than what you are doing now. Besides, it would be another high quality extracurricular activity that I'm positive will be well-received with your college applications, and by your mother." 

After stepping past Daria, Ms. Li said, "The same applies to you, Mr. Lane. It only makes sense for you to continue your efforts to help Mr. Thompson. I'm sure you know what I mean." 

John nodded. "Yes, I do." 

"Excellent." Ms. Li finally acknowledged Kevin. "Mr. Thompson, I hope you recognize the importance of these sessions to your continued eligibility. We wouldn't want your talent hindered by a little thing like poor grades." 

He said, "Um, no Ms. Li. I mean, yes┘uh┘I mean┘okay. I think." 

Ms. Li said, "Good. Now, you should also get back to practice. I'll explain everything to Coach Gibson later." 

"Yes, Ms. Li," he said, glad for the chance to escape. Once into the hallway, his exit was faster than the other football players. 

"You two can resume what you were doing," Ms. Li said. As she started walking back to the main office, she added, "I so enjoy seeing my students rise to meet new challenges." 

Once the office door closed behind her, the faГade of control dropped from Ms. Li's face. "That was too close. I need to keep those two busy so that they don't pry so much."

* * *

Arms crossed over her chest, Daria was seated on her bed, glancing down at Zachary purring on her lap. "Recruiting the cat won't help." 

On the bed behind her, John said, "He's here by his own choice. You know cats can't be recruited." 

"It still won't help," Daria defiantly said. 

John gingerly placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry that once again, no good deed goes unpunished. But at least you're getting out of gym class." 

"We both know that was a crass bribe." 

"How do you think I feel about being blackmailed?" 

She twisted her head to look at him. "Okay, it sucks for both of us." 

John slid his hands down along Daria's arms. "Isn't it a little victory that Kevin decided not to cheat?" 

"Yes, but we still don't know who stole the test. After today's incident, Ms. Li has made sure that the football players will keep their mouths shut." 

"It did score points with Helen." 

"That was an efficient use of effort. Mom will provide a carrot and stick to keep us in the program." 

John moved his arms around Daria to hug her. "This is the last thing I have left to offer." 

Daria leaned back against him and allowed her head to rest on John's shoulder. She softly said, "That helps. You may continue." 

"For how long?" 

Daria closed her eyes. "Until I say you're done."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading. 

August 2007   



	31. View from a Parade

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the thirty-first John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**View from a Parade**

Mr. O'Neill finished writing, "Lessons from the Success of Failure," on the board and turned to his English class. "Okay, class. It's time to hear about how you failed and what you learned from it." 

Low, bored grumbling came from the class while the teacher expectantly waited for someone to volunteer. When no comments were forthcoming, he arbitrarily pointed and said, "John, what did you fail to do?"

Slightly slouching in his chair and visibly bored, the black-haired, blue-eyed boy shook his head and said, "I failed to wake my brother up before noon on Saturday." 

Mr. O'Neill slightly frowned and said, "That doesn't sound like you tried very hard."

"Well, I hooked up his stereo speakers to a stage amp and played some death metal music at max volume."

"Hmm…how long did you play it?" 

"Until Axl came over from the piercing parlor next door to say the music was too loud and scaring his customers away." 

"Oh, dear. Well, okay, who's next? Daria."

As disgruntled as her boyfriend, she said, "I was unable to talk my sister out of going to the Teen Fashion Extravaganza at the mall, despite attempting logic, ethics and finally, bribery."

"And what did you learn from that?"

"That some things in life simply cannot be changed."

Mr. O'Neill smiled wide. "Very good, Daria. That's a wonderful lesson. Okay, Brittany, what did you fail to do?"

The bubbly cheerleader said, "Daria said maybe I could talk to Congressman Sacks about more cheerleader summer schools. He said he'd look into it and maybe that I should help, but then his, um, secretary or something gave him a really ugly look and he said he was sorry, but he couldn't do anything."

A little worried, Mr. O'Neill said, "Well, that's how things go in politics. What did you learn?"

"You can't trust a congressman to keep his word."

Daria smirked. "A lesson in real-life politics."

Mr. O'Neill said, "Mack?"

He sat upright and said, "I wasn't able to replace Kevin as the quarterback."

Kevin grinned and said, "Because I'm the QB."

Mr. O'Neill said, "Yes, Kevin. Mack, what did you learn?"

"That you can't beat an idiot savant at his own game."

"Okay. Kevin, what about you?"

"Um," he said, "I'm still the QB."

Mr. O'Neill sighed. "You said that, Kevin. What did you try to do and fail?"

Kevin looked confused and said, "I tried not to be the QB and couldn't." 

"Uh, okay, I think I see."

"Hey, it's like, nature's orders."

"Yes. Jodie, how about you?"

Jodie shuffled her feet, wrung her hands together and looked at Daria and John. "I didn't exactly complete the assignment. Since Mack and I are the Homecoming King and Queen, I asked Ms. Li if John and Daria could be our court. She agreed." 

"Oh, well, so you intended to fail to have them assigned, but they were assigned anyway. You failed at your assignment, which meant you still succeeded. You showed us a whole other dimension to this subject. Thank you, Jodie."

Daria grumbled, "Yeah, thanks, Jodie."

* * *

Over her lunch, Jodie tried to explain, "Daria, I honestly never thought Ms. Li would go along with it. I'd ask, she'd say 'no,' end of assignment. The alternative was asking my parents to let me have some free time this summer. The answer to that is too depressing to think about."

Seated across the table, Daria said, "Okay, I'll have to admit that I didn't think she'd go along with it, either. I figured she'd consider John and me loose cannons that couldn't be exposed to the public." 

John asked, "Do you think I could get away with bringing my Polaroid to photograph the crowd?"

Jodie glanced over at him and said, "That's one of the reasons I thought Ms. Li would say, 'no.'"

"I guess she's still a little annoyed we got close to something with that stolen test that John turned in for Kevin."

Mack said, "I have to ask; have your brains started leaking out yet from tutoring Kevin and Brittany?"

Daria closed her eyes. "I don't know how those two have gone this long without some teacher trying to kill them."

Jodie said, "Anyway, I'm sorry I got you into this. I know you're not big on being put on display, especially in formal wear."

Daria frowned. "I wonder if I could get out of it if I broke my neck."

John said, "Knowing Ms. Li, I doubt it. She'd try to find a designer neck brace."

Daria looked over at him. "Just remember, you're going on display, too."

* * *

Helen worriedly looked over the residues, wrappers and empty containers on the kitchen counter, picking up two and asked, "Jake, what could you possibly be making with chili powder and chocolate?"

Jake opened a covered pot and inhaled deeply. "Chicken in mole sauce with black beans, tomatoes and tortillas on the side."

"You didn't add too many spices this time, did you?"

"John and Daria, uh, doubled checked for me."

Getting up from the dining table, Daria went to her mother and said, "I don't want third-degree chemical burns with dinner. Really spoils my appetite."

Following Daria, John said, "He only did that once, well, twice. The third time was my fault."

Helen said, "As long as we don't have to go through that again tonight."

"I might as well get this over with," Daria said while she took a folded sheet of paper from her pocket. "This is from school, Mom."

Helen sighed and said, "What did you do this time?"

"We can honestly say that it wasn't our fault this time. This is all Jodie's doing." 

"Oh?" Helen said, opening the letter. After reading, she hugged Daria and said, "Sweetie, part of the homecoming court in the parade, I'm so proud of you."

"Mom, we're not part of the court, we are the court. It'll just be Jodie, Mack, John and myself on that float and then at the football game." Daria's shoulders sank. "Damn, the game. We have to go to a game, too."

Helen said, "Daria, this is wonderful. People will get a chance to see what an interesting young woman you are, and what a handsome young man John is."

Still at the table, Quinn said, "Daria! That's great. What kind of dress are you thinking about wearing?"

The elder sister turned and said, "I hadn't really thought about it. This is all kind of a shock. But before you start plotting, no, you're not taking me out to Cashman's to use me as a dress-up doll."

"Daria, you have to get something. That black dress is okay, but it's a little too casual. The only real formal dress you have is that bridesmaid dress from Erin's wedding."

Daria smiled and said, "Thank you, Quinn. That makes things easy."

"You can't!" Quinn cried in disbelief.

Helen said, "Daria, this would be a good chance for you to pick up something nice." 

"Mom," Daria said. "You paid a lot of money for that dress, which I've worn exactly once. By wearing it again, I've doubled the utility of your investment. Besides, it's only fair, since I know John will get away with wearing the same suit we bought for him."

Helen said, "Are you sure, sweetie?" 

"Mom, I'm going to hate whatever I wear. I might as well hate something I already know."

"Just let me know if you change your mind," Helen said as she walked to the table. 

As he picked up a serving platter with the side dishes, Jake leaned over the counter and whispered to Daria, "Thanks, kiddo. Make a run by the bookstore when you get a chance, on me." 

Daria faintly smiled and said, "Thanks, Dad."

* * *

Quinn stood in Daria's door with hands on hips. "What am I going to do with you?" 

"Excuse me?" Daria said, looking up from her writing.

"You've got a choice spot in the parade and you want to wear that bridesmaid dress?"

"It looks okay and I've only worn it once. Might as well get a little more mileage out of it."

"That's not the idea, Daria. This is a chance to get something new and exciting."

"That I'll wear once?"

Quinn shook her head. "Make it something that you don't have to wear just once."

Biting, Daria said, "Oh, like an evening out at _Chez Pierre_? 

"Exactly," Quinn answered.

"Quinn, I don't know where your gentleman callers get their money, but John and I have better uses for ours than an overpriced pseudo-French restaurant."

"You don't have to go all the time like I do, but something special every now and then would be good for you."

"We do have special evenings, just not like that…or like that, either," Daria said, adding the quick correction that made Quinn giggle.

"Okay, Daria," the younger sister said. "But if you change your mind, let me know. I have some great ideas for you."

"Don't hold your breath."

"I saw some great stuff while shopping for my dress for the Fashion Club's float in the parade." 

Daria asked, "You're in the parade?"

"That's what I just said."

Daria shook her head. "Great, Mom's really going to go overboard on the family togetherness thing. I hope you're ready for Dad with the camcorder."

"Daria, I like having my picture taken."

"Quinn, I said Dad with the camcorder."

The redhead's smile faded. "Oh. Hmm…maybe I can hire somebody," she said as she wandered away in thought.

Annoyed, Daria went down the hall to John's room. "Hey."

He turned from his easel and said, "Hey, back. What's up? I thought you were trying to get Melody out of an exploding missile silo."

Daria said, "I was graced by Quinn's presence. What is it about me that makes people want to dress me up like some doll? First Jodie after school, then Mom, and now Quinn."

He went to her and held her hands, saying, "You know what it is, though you don't like to admit it." 

She looked down and grumbled, "Or like it."

"My opinion's biased, but I think you'll look good in that bridesmaid dress. If I have to wear the penguin suit…fair's fair." 

Daria hugged him and said, "Thanks."

* * *

In a side room of the school's library, Daria and John sat at a textbook covered round table with Kevin and Brittany. Brittany squinted at her notebook and said, "Um…_ax + b y_?

Daria said, "That's right, Brittany."

"Babe, you're turning into a math whiz!" Kevin said.

Still working with some of the concepts himself, John said, "Okay, Kevin. What letter is the slope of the line?" 

Kevin scratched his head. "Slope? That's like a hill, right?"

Daria closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "A little." She sketched a quick diagram of a line on a XY graph. "It looks like the line is going uphill, can you see that?" 

"Um, uh…oh yeah, there it is!"

"Good. Now, are all hills the same? Are some harder to walk up than others?" 

"Yeah."

"That's because they have different slopes." She drew a second, shallower line. "This line isn't as steep as the first one."

"I see," Kevin said.

"Okay. The variable that shows the steepness of the line is in the equation. It tells you how much the line goes up for each unit on the x-axis."

Kevin squinted at the diagram. "That's the flat line, right?"

"Yes, Kevin."

The bell rang and Kevin looked relieved. John said, "Kevin, why don't you think about it overnight and tell us tomorrow morning?"

"You mean, like homework?" 

"A little bit."

"Man, you two are tough."

"We have homework, too."

Gathering books, Brittany said, "Isn't it great that we're all going to be in the Homecoming Parade?"

Daria said, "I'm overwhelmed with excitement."

"I'm a little jealous, Daria. I have to wear my cheerleader uniform and you get to really dress up."

"Yeah, dress up."

"I can't wait to see what you plan to wear!" Brittany chirped as she left the room with Kevin.

Daria dropped her head onto the table and said, "Please, shoot me."

* * *

When John saw Jodie and Mack already waiting in Ms. Li's office after school, he knew something was amiss. "Any idea of what Ms. Li wants?"

Jodie shook her head. "No. Just a generic summons."

Daria said, "I have the feeling that it's something to do with homecoming. She agreed with you too easily, so she must have an ulterior motive."

"Doesn't she always?" Mack said.

"Good point," John agreed.

"Ah, good. Everyone's here. Come inside," Ms. Li instructed from her office door. When the four teens had entered, she closed it and went back to desk. "Be seated."

After everyone was in a chair, Daria asked, "To what do we owe the pleasure?" 

"Always to the point, Ms. Morgendorffer," Ms. Li said. She picked up some catalogs from her desk and handed one to each. "Star Teen Formalwear has agreed to sponsor certain school functions, such as the upcoming prom. In exchange for their generous donations…"

"We get to model their clothes in the parade,." John finished, flipping through a glossy catalogue. 

"Very good, Mr. Lane, though it would be appreciated if you did not interrupt me again," Ms Li said, giving John a stern glare. "There is a direct benefit for each of you. You get to choose your outfit from the catalog and keep it, free of charge." 

Daria matter-of-factly said, "And in exchange, the school will conveniently steer students to Star Teen for their prom purchases."

"Exactly, Ms. Morgendorffer. I'm glad you're such a good student of our free enterprise system." 

Mack asked, "Doesn't the Prom Committee normally sell magazine subscriptions as a fundraiser?"

Ms. Li growled, "After Mr. Ruttheimer cancelled his son's 127 subscriptions to _Beach Babe Bonanza_ last year, the magazine company refuses to do business with Lawndale High. We needed a new revenue stream." 

"And if we refuse to participate in this rolling advertisement?" Daria asked.

"Ms. Morgendorffer, you consider your word important. You gave Ms. Landon permission to ask about your inclusion in the activity, meaning you gave your consent to participate if chosen. Do you really want to go against your promise?"

Daria sighed and looked at Jodie. "No, Ms. Li."

"Excellent. Please let me know your decisions tomorrow morning. Dismissed."

* * *

"Elvis or Bigfoot? The paternity test, next on _Sick, Sad World_!" blared from the television as Daria and John sat on one of the sofas. They tried to look through their catalogs while John's cats, Zachary and Taylor, nosed the paper aside, demanding attention.

"Why can't we be like you?" Daria asked, scratching Taylor's head. "Permanent fur coat, no need to decide what to wear." 

Giving attention to Zachary, John pointed out to Daria, "But the cats are also running around naked. I don't think you want that kind of attention."

Daria used one hand to try to look more through the catalog. "Li must be up to something more than what she said. Okay, she's using the homecoming parade for a fund-raising sponsorship; no surprise there, but why did she include us?"

"Jodie gave her an opening," John surmised. "Instead of two students on display, she could have four. I bet that sounded good to the company rep."

"But why us? Why not get some of the fashion conscious students? I'm sure they'd be happy to get free clothes and a ride in the parade." 

"Still trying to get us to be normal?"

Daria stopped and considered John's words for a moment. "Maybe, or at least to get us to look normal. Dammit, she knows I won't go back on my word to Jodie. I hate having honesty used against me."

"Of course, your mom thinks it's great."

"Yeah, getting me involved again. You know, once I'm in college, I'm going to enjoy not being involved with a single damn extracurricular activity." 

"Hmm, that's starting to sound good."

Daria rested her head on John's shoulder. "But it doesn't help us now. I have no ideas of what kind of dress to get, and I'm not giving Mom or Quinn the satisfaction of helping."

"So it's up to me, huh?"

"Choosing a tux isn't exactly brain surgery."

"True."

Still trying to work around the two cats' demands for attention, Daria and John looked through the catalog more. Finally, John pointed to one outfit and said, "How about that?"

"I've never been much for purple."

"But it's a deep, rich tone and the cut hints more than shows. I see it having the least embarrassment value."

"Good point, though I still wonder if they'll have it in green."

"Now we just have one more obstacle."

Daria sighed. "Telling Mom. I'd better do this one myself."

* * *

"Daria, that's beautiful," Helen said as she looked at the catalog photo. She and her daughter were standing alone in Helen's bedroom. "Even though it is a bit pricey, you're worth the treat."

"Mom, you won't have to pay for it."

"How so?"

"Ms. Li cut a deal with the company," Daria explained. "We're basically advertising models and the school gets a grant to pay for things like the prom."

Helen let out a jaded sigh. "I suppose schools have to be creative for funding these days." 

"Mom, you do realize that we're being used." 

"Yes, sweetie, and it's a regrettable part of life." 

"That's encouraging."

"It's honest. But that doesn't stop you from getting what you can from the situation."

"What do you mean?"

"You take bribes from your father and me for things you ordinarily wouldn't do. This is the same thing. You use the money you get from us to buy what you want. After the parade, you can keep or sell the dress." Helen knowingly smiled. "However, you did say that John helped to pick it out."

"Yes, he did." 

"I'm sure he thought you would look very attractive in it."

Daria blushed and said, "Yeah."

Helen rested one hand on her daughter's shoulder. "You want people to know you for more than your looks, and that's commendable. You're an intelligent and insightful young woman."

"Thanks, Mom."

"John knows you for that, and cares for you." 

Daria let herself smile in agreement.

Helen then said, "You're also an attractive young woman and you're allowed to let it show through, if you want to be honest about yourself." 

Daria reluctantly said, "I suppose."

"You have the Junior Prom coming up. I think you'll be lovely in that dress and I think you and John will be a cute couple."

"You're trying to get me to participate again."

"Yes, but not for me…for you and John. Think about it."

"I will, but no promises," Daria said, slowly walking out of the room.

Helen looked back down at the catalog in her hand and whispered, "You're growing up, sweetie."

* * *

The next afternoon, Daria wrapped a cloth tape measure around Jodie's waist and recorded the number. "I feel more like we're measuring each other for our own coffins."

Jodie said, "Hey, this way, the dresses might just fit properly. How would you like to be in the parade with something that keeps trying to slide off of your shoulder?" 

"About as embarrassed as I'll be anyway."

Jodie smirked. "But will you be as embarrassed as the guys doing this in the other room?"

Daria smirked back. "Jodie, am I starting to rub off on you?"

"Perhaps…" 

"What did your parents think about this advertising gimmick?"

"My dad grumbled something about not thinking about something like that for his business and mom reminded him that little things like this are the fringe benefits of power." 

"Jodie, sometimes your parents make mine look almost rational."

"Now you know why I didn't go with my first idea for that failure project."

Daria measured Jodie's hips and asked, "How do you stand being on display all the time?"

"Practice, and I guess, the feeling that I'm being a good example," Jodie weakly said. "Still, I'm glad Mack and I won't be alone this time. Thanks for not bailing out on me."

* * *

At a small apartment on the east side of town near the railroad tracks, Daria knocked on the door. After a moment, Monique answered and said, "Hi, Daria. What brings you around?"

"Hi, Monique. I thought I'd come by and pick your brains for a little advice."

"Sure, come on in. Want a soda?"

"That would be good, thanks," Daria replied, sitting on the sofa.

The lean and tall black-haired woman went to her small kitchen and came back with a can. "Here you go. Now, what's on your mind? Johnny hasn't done something stupid, has he?"

"Outside of try to wake his brother before noon, no."

"Why would he try to do that?"

"Stupid school assignment. We had to try to do something that we knew would fail." 

"That was a sure bet. Nobody's getting Trent up before noon unless they…never mind."

Daria said, "Thank you for not sharing too much information. Anyway, I came here to ask about how you handle people watching you on stage."

"In what way? It's part of being a performer. Are you expecting to be on stage for something?"

"A float, in the school's homecoming parade."

Monique sat next to her young friend. "You?"

"Homecoming court. I told Jodie it was okay if she asked, but I didn't expect Ms. Li to approve." 

"Another failure project?"

"Yes." 

"One that bit you on the ass. Okay, so you have to wear some fancy frou-frou in front of the other students and the beasts that spawned them."

"Correct. Oh, and the dress is being provided by a sponsor," Daria said. "We're also advertising."

"That old bitch Li never gives up." 

"You have to give her credit for persistence." 

Monique leaned forward with arms on knees, rolling her soda can between her palms. "Don't do the 'picture the audience in their underwear' thing; it'll only make you want to hurl." 

"Thanks for the warning."

"You won't have the advantage of bright stage lights and a darkened audience, and I assume that they'll want you to do something silly like wave to the crowd."

Daria waved her hand in carefully practiced motion. "I've watched video clips of the British royal family." 

"Any time you're on stage, you're basically putting on some kind of act. Remember that is what the crowd will see. The act, not you. Hold onto yourself and know that who you really are will stay safe inside."'

"I think I follow."

"One more thing. When you can, hold onto someone's hand. It helps more than you think."

* * *

Pacing the floor of the living room, Helen pointedly spoke into her phone, "No, Eric, I can't attend the meeting. I told you earlier this week that I'd absolutely have to take this afternoon off. No, I can't ask the high school to reschedule homecoming. Yes, both of my daughters are in the parade. No, I'm not trying to get out of a little hard work. I suppose a conference call to my cell will work. I don't think it will be a good idea for me to carry confidential briefs to the parade; I'll have to work from my notes. Okay Eric, I'll hear from you then. Bye." 

She turned off the phone and dropped it into her pocket. "That man, I don't know why I put up with him."

Jake poked his head out from the kitchen. "Did you say something, honey?"

"Nothing, Jake."

"Well, I have the old camcorder ready with fresh batteries and backups. No running out of power this time," he proudly said, patting the instrument.

"Don't forget to take off the lens cap." 

Upstairs, in the hallway, Quinn fussed over John's tie. "I swear; you can be almost as bad as Daria."

"Hey, it's not like I've had a lot of practice with these things." 

"It should be, like, a basic skill all guys learn." She stepped back. "There, now it looks presentable." 

"Thanks. I suppose I should say that you look presentable, also."

Quinn spun around in her shimmering, pink sleeveless gown. "I try."

"Yes, you are trying," Daria said, stepping out from her room. The short-sleeved dress elegantly and smoothly flowed down from her shoulders, gently showing the curves underneath without calling excess attention. Emerging from the lower hem were the tips of matching flat shoes.

Knowing to downplay her reaction, Quinn said, "Daria, the purple works, and I didn't have to finish dressing you."

"Thanks."

"You look wonderful," John said.

Daria stepped over to him. "You'd say that if I were wearing a burlap sack."

"You look better than a burlap sack."

"Okay, I can live with that."

Quinn pointed to the airy tiara on her brow. "Don't you have one?"

Daria shook her head. "Queen Jodie and King Mack get the headwear, which is fine by me." 

"Now I kind of feel funny wearing it."

"As the Princess of Fashion, I suppose one makes sense for you." 

Quinn said, "We better go downstairs before Mom's head explodes from waiting."

"That would almost be worth it," Daria said as they started toward the stairs, "Except we'd have to clean it up."

John said, "Oops, let me grab something." He ducked inside his room and came back with his camera and stuffed a pack of film into the inner pocket of his coat while hurrying to catch up.

Quinn held back a couple paces and whispered to John, "Daria looks great."

"She does."

"Almost…as good as me."

John silently laughed in response.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Helen said, "Stop right there."

"Mom?" Daria asked.

She said, "I want some pictures. The chances of something like this happening again are next to none." 

Jake pointed the camcorder and recorded the teens on the stairs while Helen took a couple of shots with a still camera. She then said, "Thank you for indulging your parents."

* * *

Walking through the parade staging areas, Daria asked John, "Did Mom and Dad say which pharmacy they were going to find a spot to watch?"

"I think it was Drugs-N-Stuff," John said. "Don't worry; I'm sure they'll be hard to miss."  
He then nodded to the side and said, "Ah, Quinn located the Fashion Club. Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?"

"Four girls in overpriced, cheaply made dresses?"

"No, I meant Jamie, Joey and Jeffy dressed in togas and ready to pull the float."

Daria shook her head and said, "And they sent us to self-esteem class."

Across the street, Stacy said, "Quinn, is that your sister? She looks really cute."

"Yeah, that's Daria. She cleans up pretty well."

"She's almost as cute as you are, Quinn," Tiffany drawled.

"This is going to increase her popularity, Quinn," Sandi said. "How does she rate in the parade?"

"She's part of the Homecoming Court. It was Jodie's idea."

Sandi nodded. "I see. Jodie's craftier than I thought, planting someone that'll make her look good."

"Um, uh, never mind," Quinn said.

Jodie and Mack were already waiting at the float when John and Daria arrived. Along the side of the float was written, "Homecoming King and Queen and their court," with "Brought to you by Star Teen Formalwear," in smaller letters underneath. Mack's tuxedo was virtually identical to John's, while Jodie wore a white gown with a full, flowing skirt and sleeves. "You look really good, Daria," she said.

"Uh, thanks," Daria answered. Looking at the float and then at her long dress, she added, "I hope there's a ladder or steps to get on that thing." 

"Jodie, I owe you five," Mack said. "John brought his camera."

John held it up with a light laugh, "Yep. How could I not bring it?"

"That's what I thought," Jodie said. "And Daria, there's a step-ladder on the other side."

Ted appeared with a camera hanging from a strap around his neck and said, "Hi, everybody. Can I get some photos for the yearbook?"

Jodie said to Mack, John and Daria, "Okay, it's show time. Put on a happy face and act like you give a damn."

"I don't have a happy face," Daria said. Looking slightly at John, she went on to say, "Well, not one for public display."

Walking around to the step-ladder, Jodie gently poked, "Then just try not to scare the children."

"I think I can do that."

Once they were on the float, John looked around and said, "Nothing to hold on to; I hope we have a good driver."

Ted waved and pointed. "Move together, Mack and Jodie in the middle. That's it." He took several photos and let the camera rest on its strap while he directed again. "Okay, now just Jodie and Mack." He pointed, focused and took three shots before saying, "Daria and John, you two. Daria, can you smile a little? Please?" 

Jodie said, "Don't push your luck, Ted."

"What?" 

Daria said, "Take the picture before I decide to scare the children."

"Oh!" Ted immediately took several photos of the two and said, "That's it. Thanks," before rushing to photograph the next float.

* * *

Smiling like two puppies, Kevin and Brittany walked along the parade floats, looking at each like fascinated children. When they reached the King and Queen's float, Kevin called up, "Hey, Mack Daddy. Hey, John."

Mack briefly considered how to use his crown as a garrote before saying, "Don't call me that."

Brittany said, "Oooh, I wish I could dress up like that for the parade."

"Ordinarily, I'd offer to trade, but in this case, I'll pass," Daria said. "Cheerleader uniforms don't do a thing for me."

Kevin said, "Daria, you look pretty good. Kinda that Cat's Heartburn chick from the old movies."

"Katherine Hepburn?" 

"Yeah!"

Daria tilted her head and said, "Thank you, Kevin."

"Where have you kept her hidden all this time?" he asked.

Daria sighed and said, "In my closet. I only let her out on special occasions." 

Brittany looked a little embarrassed for not acknowledging her friend earlier and said, "Hi, Jodie."

"Hi, Brittany," Jodie said. "Not to be rude, but shouldn't you be getting into position? It's almost time to start."

"Oh, yeah. That's where we were going. Come on, Kevvie, we don't want to hold up the parade."

"Okay, babe," he said. 

John leaned over the edge of the float and grabbed Kevin's sleeve. "You said the other night that you're on a float with Angie, right?"

"Yeah, she's the Homecoming Sweetheart. She's really hot."

Recognizing the glint in Kevin's eye, John said, "Trust me; don't do anything up there." 

"But, we're like…"

"Trust me," John warned.

Suddenly uncertain about why, but certain that he should, Kevin said, "Sure, um, John."

"Kevvie!" Brittany called.

"Coming, babe!" he replied and ran to her.

Daria stepped over to John and said, "What was that?"

"Just a little favor for what he said to you."

"He was being nice, for him."

"I know...that's why I hope I just saved him from a lot of grief."

* * *

Holding onto one of the chair backs as the float lurched along the street, Daria said, "I'm glad I don't get motion sickness. Does this thing have oval tires?" 

"Or a bent axle," Mack suggested.

Jodie said, "After a while, the heat and noise get to you and you won't notice."

"Oh, that sounds reassuring," Daria said. "At least the Lawndale Marching Lions are at the other end of the parade."

"And thank the Deity of your Choice that there are no horses," John said.

Daria looked over the top of her glasses at him as she endured a childhood memory. "Or cows."

Managing to continue waving to the crowd and appear to pay attention to them, Jodie said to Daria, "There's a story behind that."

"Where I used to live in Texas," Daria explained. "The Future Cattlemen of Texas was one of the largest clubs. Each member brought their county fair cow…and the principal didn't have the good sense to put them at the back of the parade."

"Ewww," Jodie said. "I hope they had a cleanup squad."

Daria shook her head. "Jodie, as scary as it sounds, most of them didn't see a need. When you spend that much time running around in cow pastures, avoiding them becomes second nature."

* * *

John squinted at the strange object on the side of the street, shook his head, and said, "I think the lack of air is getting to me. That looks like a penguin head."

Daria looked and said, "A robot penguin head."

"I think that was from the Metal Shop float," Mack said. "It must've fallen off."

Jodie said, "Wasn't that the one with the giant football player holding the penguin head?"

"That's it," Mack replied.

"That was quite a fall. Good thing nobody was hurt."

John lifted his camera and took a picture of the float fragment. "Unless some poor guy is under the penguin remains."

"Death by Penguin, maybe Trent could use it for a band name," Daria said.

"Don't give him ideas."

* * *

Seeing a stocky black man with short, gray hair, along with a jovial, full-figured woman next to a trim, impeccably dressed couple, John said, "Mack, it looks like your parents are watching with the Landons. To the right, about half a block up."

"That's them," Mack answered. "Jodie, do you see them?"

"Yes, and so far, it looks like everything is going well."

Daria looked at both men. Andrew Landon had a top-of-the-line video camera, while Colin MacKenzie held a basic 35mm camera. Daria said, "What is it about fathers and cameras?"

John said, "Beats me," as he took a developing photo from his camera.

Mack suggested, "Contractual obligation?"

"No visual memory," Jodie said. "You should see all of the photo albums and videos my Dad's collected of me. As if he'll forget what I look like the moment I leave home."

"Smile, everyone!" Colin said loudly while framing all four teens in his viewfinder.

Jodie and Mack gave him picture-perfect smiles, Daria assented to a minimal one, and John jokingly grinned like an idiot. After snapping the shutter, Colin laughed, causing his wife Leesha to join in. Michelle Landon looked askance at them and faintly frowned. Andrew let his eyes shift over toward the MacKenzies and half-smirked.

Jodie muttered, "Mom, get over yourself." 

Once they were safely past her parents, Jodie sat down and said, "I hate this. Mom and Dad are so proud that we're, once again, King and Queen, but fail to see the hypocrisy that the 'enlightened' school has us up here as tokens."

Daria leaned over the chair back. "Correction: advertising tokens. You and Mack are tokens for your skin color; John and I are here to show even outcasts are included, and we all are wearing the latest teen fashions."

Mack shook his head and sat next to his girlfriend. "Why do we put up with this?"

"Future college applications," Jodie said, and then started to mimic her mother, "Only the finest schools are good enough for our daughter. Jodie, you have to be twice as good as anyone else to get in…and we fully expect you to have your choice of schools." 

"Oh, yeah´ Mack grumbled. "Damned well-rounded interests."

John sat on one of the chairs behind Jodie and Mack, scooting it forward. "You two are starting to sound like me and Daria."

"Maybe it's about time," Jodie said. "Pedestals get damn tiring after a while."

John pulled the other seat forward for Daria. "Might as well join the rest of us sitting on our butts," he said.

Daria accepted the seat and said, "Too bad we can't abandon this thing."

"We could always jump," John suggested.

"You can," Daria replied. "I'd break my neck in this thing."

"I won't even consider it in my heels," Jodie said. "We're stuck for the duration."

John shrugged and asked, "Isn't that what high school is all about?"

* * *

"Hey, Daria. Isn't that your parents?" Jodie asked, pointing to the front of Drugs-N-Stuff.

Daria looked and said, "Oh God, they're with the Guptys."

"Who?" Mack said.

"Former babysitting job. They have a different viewpoint on life. From what I hear about Ted's parents, they'd probably get along. Kids would probably be okay if they weren't so sheltered." Watching her mother reading notes from a briefcase braced on a mailbox while talking on the phone as her father desperately fiddled with the video camera, she went on to say, "Mom and Dad probably won't notice us going by."

"However, Tad and Tricia seem excited; they're pointing this way," John said. He stood and gently touched Daria's shoulder. "Might as well give them a little bit of a show. Maybe they'll get your parents' attention." 

Noticing something in Tad's hand, Jodie said, "What's the little boy holding?"

"It looks like a toy windmill," Mack said.

Daria snorted a subdued laugh and stood. "Somehow, I can see Tad tilting at them when he grows up…even if his parents don't approve. So, I guess I can't give up completely."

"Yeah, it would be better to rise above it than to fall victim to it," Jodie said, rising. Mack followed suit and all four started to wave at the crowd again. 

"Just a moment, Eric, it's right here," they could hear Helen saying into her cell phone, while looking through her papers. Jake looked up from the camera and saw the float.

"Helen, there they are!" he said excitedly, nudging her shoulder while bringing the camera up. Helen's briefcase slid off the sloped top of the mailbox to scatter paper across the pavement.

Helen dropped the cell phone and dove to grab the loose sheets, yelling, "Jake!"

Trying to keep the camera pointed in the right direction, Jake looked down and yelled, "You're missing them!"

"What?!" Helen looked up and saw the float drawing close. "Dammit!" she cried as she tried to smile, wave and still gather the tumbling papers.

John lifted his camera and said, "Ah, another Morgendorffer moment." 

Jake looked back into the viewfinder and said, "Don't worry, honey, I'm getting every bit of it!"

"I could use some help down here," Helen said.

Tricia bent down and picked up the fallen cell phone. "Hello?...Mrs. Morgendorffer's a little busy right now…Yes, she's right beside me." The girl held the phone away from her mouth and said, "Mrs. Morgendorffer, Mr. Eric wants to know if you think five hundred thousand dollars is a good first offer."

Flustered, Helen grabbed more paper and said, "Yes!"

"She said, 'Yes.'" Tricia repeated into the phone.

Helping to gather papers, Tad read one and said, "I didn't think you could do that with a foot."

Daria elbowed John and said, "And we thought I was a bad influence on those kids."

* * *

Random, panicked shouts from somewhere forward in the parade grabbed everyone's attention. Within a few moments, parade floats started making desperate swerves away from the center of the street while those on foot ran wildly into the crowd. Coming down the street in reverse was a pink convertible with "Love Machine" painted on the doors and "Lawndale Swingers" on a banner snapping in the wind above. Eyes wide with fear, Upchuck alternated between looking between the inflatable girls in the back seat to see where he was going and the source of his fear: Ms. Barch stampeding along the street, following him.

Eyes burning with hate, she growled, "You can't run away forever, you perverted….man!"

Behind Lawndale High's science teacher, two women police officers gave chase, each wielding a baton, with no firm indication of which one they were pursuing.

"What the…" Jodie called as the driver of their float jerked the vehicle to the left, slinging the passengers to the side. Away from a handhold, she started to fall face-first, only to be half-caught by Mack before they both thumped onto the deck of the float with Jodie sprawled on top.

John managed to catch himself on one of the handholds and Daria grabbed him around the waist, almost causing both to tumble over as she spun around him.

"Get out of the way! She's gone mad!" Upchuck screamed as he zoomed past and then succeeded in hooking a turn into to a side street as the crowd ran away.

Running along the sidewalk, someone in a lion costume yelled, "Janet!" as he tried to get past a group of freshmen painting a storefront.

Unaware of the mascot, one of the boys turned quickly with a bucket of paint and was hit by the lion. The paint splattered across the mascot's chest as he tried to stop and failed, resulting in him falling backward with a grunt. 

"Cool!" one of the other students said as they gathered around the splattered lion.

Ms. Barch saw the fall at the edge of her vision and turned away from her chase. "Skinny!" she yelled as she reached him, pulling off the costume head to show Mr. O'Neill's face. "Are you hurt?"

"I, uh, think I bumped my head," he said.

Ms. Barch nodded and said, "You'll live." She stood and started to march on the paint-wielding students. "You will pay for that," she said, menacingly.

As the younger students fell back, a slight figure in an earth-tone dress stepped between them and the furious Ms. Barch. "Not another step, Janet," Ms. Defoe said.  
"Get out of my way, Claire. That testosterone wasteland is going to get what he deserves."

Ms. Defoe stood firm and glared at Ms. Barch. "It was an accident. Mr. O'Neill shouldn't have been running through the crowd."

"Are you defending that…"

Ms. Defoe took a step forward. "You will not abuse my students the way you abuse yours."

Ms. Barch started to ball her fists, but then saw something in Ms. Defoe's eyes that made her suddenly think that was a bad idea. "Fine!" she spat. "I'll get Mr. O'Neill some medical attention."

As Ms. Barch turned and stepped back to Mr. O'Neill, Ms. Defoe said, "Please, not in public. You'll scare the children."

Trying to rise with what dignity she could muster, Jodie said, "Did Ms. Defoe just stare down Ms. Barch?"

"Wow," Mack said as he stood, helping Jodie. "Guess you can never tell what's inside someone." 

"Ms. Defoe is a little protective of her students," John said.

"A little?" Daria said. "I didn't think that a rampaging _Tyrannosaurus_ would make Ms. Barch flinch like that."

Stepping out into the street, the two police officers started to reorganize the parade, saying, "Okay, nothing left to see here, move along…"

"I've gotta get a shot of this," John said, grabbing his camera and snapping photos of the chaos.

Daria looked at him, shook her head and then said to Jodie and Mack, "We've lost him until he runs out of film."

* * *

Tired and glad the parade was finally over, the four walked to the public parking lot set aside for parade participants to be picked up by their parents. "I thought you said these things were dull," Daria said to Jodie. "I can't say that I liked being on display, but the show was good, in a train wreck kind of way."

Shuffling through pictures, John said, "Really. I've got stuff to keep me busy for weeks. What an amazing display of human insanity."

"Or pod people," a voice said behind them. John and Daria turned to see Tom, who observed, "I must say that this makes my school look stuffy. Does this happen all the time?"

"Only on special occasions," Daria said.

"Hi," Jodie said. "Do you know Daria and John?"

"Yeah, through her sister, Quinn. I'm Tom Sloane."

"One of _the_ Sloanes?" Jodie asked.

Tom frowned and said, "Yes."

"Don't let my father see you," Jodie pleaded. "He's been talking about applying to Winged Tree Country Club, and if he thinks he can meet your father…" 

Glad not to hear what he feared, Tom held up his hands. "Say no more. Just give the word and I'll disappear."

Jodie gratefully said, "Thanks." She then offered her hand to shake. "Oh, I'm Jodie and this is Mack."

"Pleased to meet you." Tom looked around more and said, "Has anyone seen Quinn? I was going to say 'hi' to her after the parade." 

"Just look for the gaggle of fashion geese," John said. "She's in the middle of them."

"From the way all of you are dressed, I thought that she was here," Tom said. "Daria, John, that's not exactly your regular styles." 

Daria said, "Jodie and Mack are the Homecoming Queen and King. We were conscripted into being their court."

"So you had a box seat view of the chaos," Tom said.

Jodie replied, "For the main event, I wouldn't exactly call it a seat." She glanced at Mack, "Though it was a comfortable spot."

"For you," he said.

Jodie tapped Tom and said, "Sorry, but I just saw my mother. I'd better intercept her before she sees us. Nice meeting you, Tom." 

"Yeah, Tom," Mack said. "Good luck finding anyone in this mess."

After they departed, Tom asked, "Are you heading in any particular direction?"

"Mom and Dad said that they'd pick us up over there," Daria said, pointing. "Probably is the best place to look for Quinn." 

"Mind if I follow you?"

John shrugged. "Nope. But be warned: Quinn's with the Fashion Club and probably her puppy pack."

"I've met them," Tom said. "They're mostly harmless." Daria gave him a slight smirk, to which Tom said, "I wondered if either of you would get that." 

They filed through the crowded lot, weaving between cars and people, toward the entrance that Helen had indicated as the pickup point. When they arrived, Daria and John were surprised to see Monique waving at them. Daria approached and said, "What brought you out into this madness?"

The slender woman said, "I wanted to see you all dressed up."

"_Et tu_?" 

"Hey, you look good." Monique playfully pushed John's shoulder and said, "Daria, you really should trade up." Seeing Tom, she teased, "Or are you already looking?" 

"Monique, this is Quinn's friend, Tom," Daria said while linking her arm with John's. "I don't think I'm going to be trading anytime soon."

"So you're after the red-headed princess, huh?" she asked Tom.

Tom shrugged. "Not really 'after.' We're friends and her friends are…entertaining."

"I bet," Monique said, laughing.

John said, "You looked like you were waiting for us."

"Oh, I was," she replied. "I ran into Daria's folks. Helen's briefcase had papers sticking out of it in all kinds of weird ways and she was in a panic to get to the office and away from a really freaky, in a Kewpie doll kind of way couple. Jake asked me to give you a ride home."

"I can see wanting to escape the Guptys," Daria said. "I guess we have to wait for Quinn, though I really want to change back into some regular clothes."

"There she is," Tom said.

Quinn appeared, along with her friends and followers. "Oh, hi Tom. I'm glad you could make it."

John said, "Your mom and dad had to leave. Monique's going to give us a ride home."

Quinn looked briefly back at her friends. "Um, Tom, I wanted to hang around here a little while longer. Fashion Club business. Could you please give me a ride home?" 

"Uh, sure, Quinn. But you do remember what I drive, don't you?"

"I'll be fine," Quinn said, dismissing the concern. "I need a little adventure in my life." 

"That car's more than a little adventure," John said. "I should know; look at what Daria and I drive." 

"Exactly," Quinn said. She slipped between Daria and John and whispered, "You look really nice. Have some time alone without your little sister underfoot."

Daria faintly blushed, but said, "Thanks, Quinn. See you later." 

"Bye, Quinn. Later, Tom," John said.

"Bye," Quinn said. "Come on, Tom."

"Okay, bye everyone," Tom said as Quinn started leading him away. After a couple steps, he looked back over his shoulder at Daria and John following Monique to her car, and silently mouthed, "Lucky bastard."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan, Mr. Orange and Martin Pollard for beta reading.

September 2007


	32. Ties of Family Bondage

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the thirty-second John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Ties of Family Bondage**

Coming down the stairs, John could hear Jake's excited voice say, "Look at the opportunities at the Eatertainment Conference: 'Out of this World Profits with Martian-Themed Restaurants,' 'Fountains of Income in Fondue,' or 'Tapping the Romance Market with Chocolate and Champagne.'"

John then smirked at hearing his girlfriend say, "Gastro-intestinal fun for the entire family."

When he came around the corner to enter the kitchen, John saw that Daria was seated on a stool at the kitchen counter, watching as Helen tried to work lasagna out of a glass baking pan. Quinn was seated at the kitchen table, reading an issue of _Waif_ while Jake looked through more of his convention packet, saying, "Oh, wow! The keynote speaker is Terry Perry Barlow. He's the franchising genius that made forty million dollars off the Pizza Forest chain!" 

Daria glanced over and said, "Once his badger enforcers broke up the chipmunk union."

Finally glad to get the pasta out of the pan, Helen sighed and said, "Honey, I can skip the workshops, can't I?"

Jake looked up and said, "That's the great thing about tax-deductible conferences. You can sit by the pool and relax!"

"That sounds good," Helen said. "I can't remember the last time I had a day off from work."

John asked, "And what are we going to do? Hey, will they have free food?"

"Sorry, John-O," Jake said. "Just the two of us are going."

"So we've asked Amy to stay here with you three for the weekend," Helen said. "It will be a great time for you and her to catch up."

"You mean, like a baby sitter?" Quinn asked.

"More like a chaperone," Helen replied. "Quinn, we know all of you are great kids, but your father and I simply cannot leave three teenagers unsupervised. It's not wise." 

"I suppose I can live with Aunt Amy for a couple days," Daria said. "We had a lot to talk about at Erin's wedding." 

"Yeah, she was kind of fun," Quinn said. "Maybe I'll cancel some of my dates for this weekend."

* * *

Nestled in John's arms while sitting on her bed, Daria relaxed against him as he kissed her neck. "I can't say that I blame Mom for inviting Amy to stay. You can be very…tempting."

John slipped one hand under Daria's shirt to caress her belly. "Like this?"

She shivered slightly with pleasure and said, "Like that." 

"Well, that's because you're so tempting," he said, moving his other hand under her shirt.

Daria turned slightly and gave him a long kiss before asking, "If we were here alone, do you really think we could resist all weekend?"

He said, "It would be very…difficult."

"And yet," Daria said, burying her face against him. "Part of me is still petrified."

John held her tight. "Me, too."

"John, I love you."

"I love you, Daria."

"Someday…" she whispered. 

"Someday."

* * *

Holding a tourist brochure, Daria sat next to her father on the sofa and said, "Dad, could you do me a favor while you're at the convention?"

"Sure, Daria. Anything."

She showed him a page of the brochure and said, "The Museum of Medical Oddities is next door to the resort. Could you stop by the gift shop and pick up a copy of their _Virtual Sliced Man_?"

Uncertain, he said, "Um, sure. Anything else?"

"If you're feeling generous, a skull crusher would be nice."

"Ewww." 

"They're great for opening stubborn watermelons." 

Seated at one of the other sofas, Helen answered her ringing cell phone. "Hello? Hi, Eric."

After a moment, she sat up straight and said, "I thought we settled that by paying for the reconstructive surgery. They want what?"

Jake laughed nervously and said, "Good one, Kiddo. Watermelons." 

"Yes, I'll be there!" Helen said and then switched her phone off. "Dammit! The plaintiffs in the Porta-Fry class action backed out of the settlement. I can't go to the conference." 

Jake looked hurt and stunned. "Helen?"

She said, "I'm lead in this case and the firm's counting on me. I'm really sorry."

Jake grumbled, "Not like I can count on you for anything."

"Jake! That's…that's… 

"Not fair?" he said.

"Um, no. It's not. Jake, I said I'm sorry. I know; why don't you take Daria along? It would be a great chance for some father/daughter bonding." 

Daria shifted uncomfortably. "I really don't know if I want to sentence John to be alone with Amy and Quinn."

Helen snapped her fingers. "That's it! With all of her activities, we see Quinn even less than you. Quinn can go with you; how does that sound, Jakey? Get to know your little girl?"

"But Helen, I was looking forward to you in…" Jake tried to say. 

"I can't go, Jake. I'll have to make it up to you later," Helen quickly snapped back before he said too much.

* * *

"Mo-om!" Quinn cried a few minutes later. "I still have dates this weekend." 

Standing in the doorway of Quinn's room, Helen said, "And sometimes, family has to take precedence over dating. Honey, this will be a good time to get to know your father better. Just the two of you."

Calculating, Quinn said, "I'll need the right clothes. Something a little more business-like than usual. You know, to fit in with the crowd."

Helen fished a credit card from her purse. "Okay, but it's only one weekend. Two new sets of clothes."

"Is there a banquet?" 

"Yes."

Quinn folded her arms. "I can't wear the same thing I've worn all day to that. Three."

"Three, but that's it."

Quinn nodded and took the card. "Deal." 

Helen sighed. "Deal."

Listening from his door, John stepped back into his room, shaking his head. "Daria's getting the _Virtual Sliced Man_ with skull crusher and Quinn's getting three new outfits. I have got to work on my extortion skills."

* * *

As Amy Barksdale entered, John opened the front door and stepped aside, saying, "Hi, Amy. Come on in."

"Hi, John. How are you treating my favorite niece?"

Defensive, he said, "Uh…okay. We're doing okay."

Seeing Jake and Quinn coming down the stairs, each with luggage, Amy said, "Helen, you must tell me your anti-aging secrets."

Quinn giggled and said, "Mom has to work this weekend. I'm going with Daddy instead."

Amy said in confusion, "So…I'm not really needed?"

Coming behind Quinn, Helen said, "Of course you are, Amy. I'm going to be working all day tomorrow. Besides, Daria's been so looking forward to seeing you again."

"Just as long as I didn't make the drive for nothing," Amy replied.

"Not at all," Helen said. "The only change is that you will be staying in Quinn's room instead of my room."

"Okay," Amy said, getting out of Jake's way as he tried to carry suitcases out to his car. She let a smirk slowly cross her lips. "So, does this mean I get to annoy you, just like old times?"

Helen nervously laughed and said, "Oh, Amy. You were never that bad." 

"No, I was worse," Amy replied. "But I'll try to behave in front of your children."

Daria stepped up behind Helen. "Why should you act any different than the rest of us?"

Amy said, "Daria, I still like the way you think."

* * *

Seated on an airliner aisle seat, Jake finished off a drink and said, "What do you think of flying first class, Quinn?"

At the window seat and adjusting headphones, Quinn said, "It's nice, Daddy. It was so thoughtful of that cute ticket agent to offer it to us."

Jake said, "I've never been offered an upgrade before and it's great. Complimentary drinks, personal screens for the movie, solid arm rests." He suddenly looked frightened and grabbed the arm rests hard. "We're gonna crash."

Quinn waved him off and said, "Daddy, the pilot promised me that everything would be okay. I mean, if you can't trust a man with a chin like that, who can you trust?"

"You talked to the pilot?"

"You were telling that little old lady about Grandpa Morgendorffer and the time he had you fly to that military school with his friend." 

Jake's eyes widened at the memory. "Yeah, he flew me to Buxton Ridge…after spraying half the county for mosquitoes! At treetop level!"

Quinn placed her hand on his. "Daddy, you don't need to scare the passengers like you scared that little old lady."

"Oh! Oh, sorry, Quinn."

"Why don't you read your book and I'll get us something to drink." 

"Good idea." Jake took a book from his briefcase and held it up. "_I Did It, Why Can't You_? Terry Perry Barlow might have saved the lives of his entire ballooning crew in an ice storm by climbing up the ropes and opening the rip panel with his teeth, but I wonder how long he would've lasted with DDT Dan!" 

Quinn looked behind her father to address the flight steward. "Two Shirley Temples, please."

* * *

Arms spread wide over the back of a sofa, Amy gazed over her shoulder at Helen seated at the kitchen table, pawing through briefs and talking on the phone. Then, she looked at Daria and John seated on one of the other sofas. "I see Helen's still as work obsessed as ever. But until I got tenure, I wasn't exactly one to talk."

John shrugged and said, "I can't complain; she's around more than my mom was."

Amy said, "Now that's just disturbing."

Daria asked, "So, Amy, what have you been up to since Erin's wedding?" 

"Oh, the usual. Eat, sleep, poke into people's brains," she answered. "What about you?"

"Between various compulsory school functions, still trying to survive being in high school," Daria said.

"Your mother sent photos," Amy said. "I thought it was cool that you look good in purple, too."

Embarrassed, but pleased, Daria mumbled, "Thanks."

"John looked handsome, too." Amy then asked, "Are you still a couple?"

John glanced at Daria and said, "Yeah."

"Must be weird, all things considered."

"I'm a Lane," John said. "We define weird."

"Plus, you have some good points," Daria said.

Helen came in from the kitchen, holding her cell phone and saying, "Good news, they settled the Porta-Fry case and I can stay home this weekend." 

"Um, Jake and Quinn have already left for the convention," John said.

"I'm sure that they'll have a good time together," Helen said, coming up behind Daria and John. "And I get a chance to bond with you two and my sister. Won't it be fun?"

Amy drew her arms in and said, "Helen, the last time we spent this much time together was when I helped you drive out to Texas fourteen years ago."

"And we survived," Helen said.

"Barely."

Helen sighed and said, "Amy, please."

"All right, sis," Amy said.

Helen sat down beside her sister and said, "Fourteen years? Has it really been that long?"

* * *

Riding the elevator back down to the lobby, Jake said, "This must be my lucky trip. First the upgrade for the flight, and now our room. Wow."

Quinn said, "That man at the reservation desk was so helpful after they lost the reservation."

"I can't believe how much space we have in the penthouse suite," Jake said. He looked down at his suit and asked, "Do you really think this tie works better?"

"Much better, Daddy. Trust me; I know what I'm talking about. That other tie says, 'I'm just one of the guys.' That one says that you're better than the rest of the pack." 

"Just what I want to say." Jake grinned as the door opened and they stepped out. Noticing a black couple at registration, he then said, "Hey, there's Andrew and Michelle Landon." 

The desk clerk was telling them, "Mr. Landon? I think I found you something. You're not sensitive to the sounds or smells of a kitchen exhaust fan, are you?"

Michelle leaned over the desk and growled, "Do I look like a maid? I want our suite!" 

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Landon. Our online reservation system had some technical difficulties. All of our penthouse suites are currently occupied, along with the rest of the resort. Ma'am, that's the only room we have left. As an apology, we'll give you one night at no charge."

Andrew said, "We'll take it. But I want to speak with your manager later."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Landon."

"Andrew, Michelle, how are you?" Jake said.

Andrew turned. "Jake Morgendorffer. How have you been?"

"This must be your daughter, Quinn. It's nice to finally meet you," Michelle said, still fighting back her anger at the hotel and putting on a pleasant façade. 

Quinn explained, "Mom had some last minute stuff come up at that office of hers, so I came instead. We've met the nicest, most helpful people."

Almost grinding her teeth, Michelle said, "I wish I could say the same."

Andrew slapped Jake on the shoulder and said, "Come on, let's grab a drink before the reception and let the girls have some time together." 

After they left, Quinn said, "I like that red top." 

"Thank you, Quinn," Michelle said.

"But have you considered how much a cute skirt would make guys turns their heads and still say, 'I'm all business.'"

"Do you really think so?"

* * *

Waiting until her mother closed the door after leaving the house, Daria asked Amy, "Is it really a good idea to send her out for supplies so you two can drink? I remember her with Aunt Rita."

Amy said, "You might have a point there. I don't know if I want her crying on my shoulder, but a nice daiquiri will help me calm down. Besides, it gets her out of the house for a few minutes so I can interrogate you in private." 

Daria held up one hand and raised a finger. "Yes, we love each other."

John did the same. "Yes, we know the odds are against a teenage romance lasting."

Daria raised a second finger. "No, we're not sexually active." 

John also lifted another. "Yes, we're tempted." 

One more for Daria. "Yes, we have precautions, just in case."

John brought up a third finger. "No, you may not ask what we may or may not have done short of that."

A fourth finger for Daria. "No, we have not discussed marriage." 

Also for John. "All other questions will be answered on a case by case basis."

Amy snickered and said, "I see you still get a few questions. I hope you don't mind a few more. Since I currently don't have a love life, I can at least live vicariously through yours."

* * *

Andrew and Jake approached Michelle and Quinn with a man with hair that Quinn recognized as having been carefully dyed to hide some gray. Andrew said, "I'd like you to meet my wife, Michelle. Honey, this is Terry Perry Barlow."

Michelle extended her hand and said, "Former Senior VP at US World."

Terry grinned and said, "Impressive company. Who you with now?"

"Actually, I'm taking a brief hiatus. We recently had a son."

Terry nudged Andrew and said, "One of the unfortunate side effects of Viagra. Ha, just kidding. Got a pair of newborns myself. Pay their mother a nice settlement, too." He then noticed Quinn and said, "Hey, who's the impressive young lady?"

Jake's eyes darkened and he said, "My daughter. My teenage daughter, Quinn." 

"Oh, um, cute girl there, Jack," he said, verbally backpedaling. "I bet I can learn more from her than I can from a stack of consultant reports. Quinn, would live alligator wrestling get you into a restaurant?"

She said, "Eww! Any guy that tried to take me to a place like that would drop on my list to the level of guys that would take me to a chain restaurant. Which means; no way."

Terry rubbed his chin and said, "Hmm, maybe you're right, Andrew. Chain theme restaurants might've run their course." Putting his arm around Andrew and leading him away, asked, "Do you like ballooning?"

Michelle glanced at them and said, "Excuse me; I better keep an eye on them. Two bags of hot air talking about balloons can't be good."

* * *

Setting her empty glass on the coffee table, Amy giggled and said to Helen, "How do you explain Wilbur? I thought Mom was going to blow a gasket."

"That's exactly why," Helen explained, her voice also slightly slurred from alcohol. "He was from the wrong side of the tracks…" 

"Literally," Amy said.

"But he was also fun, in a bad boy sort of way."

Amy unsteadily stood and headed for the kitchen and a refill. "And a lot more interesting than the society types Mom always wanted us to date." 

Helen took a long drink and said, "Ugh. Most of them needed the two-by-four pulled out of their asses. I bet that's why you went to that concert with what's his name."

"Which concert?" Amy asked, pouring another daiquiri from the blender. 

"The one where you put on all the makeup and he wore that corset."

Amy laughed loudly and said, "Oh, you mean Ray and the night we did _Rocky Horror_. Yeah, that was a good one, though he ended up being way too serious about the part, and he wasn't faking."

Daria made a face and whispered to John, "Are you as freaked out as I am?"

He nodded. "This might have started out as some good dirt, but it's getting scary."

Noticing, Amy covered her mouth and said, "Oops, was I embarrassing you? Things were a lot different back then."

"We can tell," Daria answered. 

John turned to Helen to say something and noticed her slouched back, gently snoring. He took the glass from her limp hand and said, "I think she's had enough."

Amy looked down at her glass. "Helen never could hold her liquor. Guess I'm being a bad influence again."

"Do you think you can help us get her upstairs?" Daria asked.

When she stumbled on the way back, Amy said, "Uh, maybe that's not a good idea."

* * *

Dejected, Jake sat on a chair in the common room of the penthouse suite. "I guess I am small fry. The big boys will be off in Terry's balloon tomorrow." 

Quinn said, "Oh, Daddy, you don't want to ride a balloon. They have absolutely no in-flight amenities. I mean, a wicker basket? How primitive can you get?"

"But honey, Andrew will be able to negotiate anything with Terry while they're up in the balloon, while I'm stuck on the ground, wishing like the 'fraidy-cat that I am."

Quinn sat on the chair arm and put a hand on her father's shoulder. "So you're afraid of high stuff. Big deal."

"You're not afraid," he complained.

"I'm afraid of other things."

"But I'm supposed to be a hero to my kids. I'm a zero."

"Daddy, you are a hero to me."

"Really?"

"You and Mom. Me and Daria and John don't have to worry about anything important, you take care of it. I can think about my clothes and my popularity while Daria can think about John and her stories and he can think about her and his pictures."

"Your mom thinks I need to know you better. Things like your hopes and dreams." 

"Daddy, I don't even know my hopes and dreams from one week to the next."

"Oh."

"Except one thing."

Jake asked, "What's that?"

"That I can find someone the way Mom found you and Daria found John."

* * *

One on each side of Amy, John and Daria guided her to Quinn's room. John said, "Weren't they supposed to keep an eye on us?"

"Hey, kids watching the parents, you should be used to this," Daria said.

"Can't remember my Mom or Dad staggering drunk, but Trent on the other hand…uh, oh."

Daria said, "Uh, oh, what?" 

John made a face and said, "I've also had to clean up after Trent."

"Let's hope we don't have to worry about that." At the door, Daria said to Amy, "Almost there."

"Oh, goody," Amy mumbled. "Will you spin the bed for me?"

John said, "I think it will do that on its own."

"Cool," Amy said as she slumped from their arms to land crossways on the bed.

Daria said, "Good night, Amy," and started to leave with John. 

Amy said, "Hey Daria, need to say something."

"Go on," she told John. "I'll be out in a minute." She went to the bed and said, "Yes, Amy?"

"He…he's cute," Amy managed to say, barely looking up.

"Yeah, he is."

"You need to cut loose a little, Daria." 

"Cut loose?"

"You know, have a little fub…um, fun."

"Fun?"

Amy rolled her eyes and said, "You know, jump him," before closing them and passing out.

Daria stared at her for several seconds before making a fast retreat, closing the door on the way out. 

Outside, John leaned against the wall next to Daria's door. "I guess we have the rest of the night to ourselves." 

Unsettled, Daria said, "Uh, yeah. Ourselves." 

"Did Amy say anything you can repeat?"

Daria took a couple seconds to decide upon an answer. "She had a suggestion on what to do tonight."

* * *

On TV, the _Sick, Sad World_ interviewer asked, "So, why make giant, genetically engineered daddy longlegs?"

A slightly crazed man in a lab coat looked up from a microscope and let his glasses drop down into place. "Because I entered the wrong code when I ordered the specimens from Discount Entomology Supply. I didn't want them to go to waste, so…"

Daria used a remote to shut off the videotape and leaned against John. "I'm not really feeling like watching this tonight."

John kissed her forehead and said, "What would you like?"

Nervous, but with a hint of passion, Daria said, "To take Amy's advice."

John's eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open, speechless.

"But I also wish I'd never heard her say it."

"Ah," he said, "I think I understand."

"Do you?" she asked. "Other people used to wonder if I had emotions, or if I could feel anything. Looking back, I know why they thought that. But things are different now. I have emotions. I feel. But I'm also denying my feelings while it seems like everyone else is allowed to show theirs."

"Part of being responsible?" John said, as much to convince himself as Daria.

Suddenly deciding, she pivoted on one knee, moving her other leg over his and settling onto John's lap, facing him. Daria took off her glasses, placed her hands on his cheeks and passionately kissed him. Moving slightly back while he caught his breath, she said, "Why do we always have to be the only ones responsible? Why can't we let ourselves be lost in the moment for once?"

John gently moved his hands up Daria's back as he felt his resolve melt away. The physical contact and emotional high rushed over his senses and she became the only thing in the world to him. He drew her against his chest, kissed the side of her neck and whispered, "I want to be lost, too."

* * *

"Just a second, Daddy," Quinn said as she tied the sash of her beach wrap the following morning. After putting on sandals, she opened the door and crossed the suite to her father's room, where he was standing in the door, showing off his suit.

She said, "I need to fix your tie." A couple quick steps and a few deft pulls and tugs on Jake's tie had the knot perfectly shaped and smooth.

He stepped back to look in a mirror and then said, "Thanks, Quinn." 

"I'm going to be at the pool."

"Have fun," he replied. Thinking ahead, Jake added, "With Terry and Andrew out ballooning, I can swoop in and make deals while they're away."

"Go get 'em, Daddy," she said. 

"Are you going to join me for the vendor luncheon?" 

"Sure, I'll be there. I can't spend all day in the sun; it's bad for my skin."

"Thanks!"

Quinn followed her father out of the suite and down the elevator to the lobby, continuing to make small talk along the way. Jake grinned when the elevator door opened and numerous heads in the room turned to look. Emboldened, he never noticed that the same eyes followed Quinn as she walked to the pool, but when he started to talk to them they greeted him with a sense of awe and seemed ready to listen to anything he said.

At the pool, Quinn saw Michelle sitting on one of the lounge chairs, though not dressed for the pool. When she noticed Quinn, Michelle waved the teen over and asked, "Is your father with the rest of the boys club?"

"No," Quinn said. "He's inside."

"Lucky you. Andrew called to say that he and Terry had changed their minds and were going sailing instead."

"Boys with their toys." 

"Tell me about it. They're off having fun while I get left behind to follow-up with Andrew's contacts."

"That's not fair," Quinn said.

"No, it's not!" After several seconds, Michelle looked at Quinn, calculating, and asked, "What are your plans for the day?"

"Oh, stay by the pool, have lunch with Daddy, then go to the spa this afternoon."

"You know, with taking care of Evan, I haven't had a real day off in ages. Screw Andrew's contacts. Do you mind if I join you?"

"No."

"Great. I'll be back in a few minutes. I'm going to change."

* * *

Outside the resort's spa, Jake held up one of two paper bags and asked Quinn, "Are you sure? I grabbed a doggie bag for both of us."

"I had plenty, Daddy, but thanks."

"Oh, do you mind if help myself?"

"Some of those samples were really fatty; maybe you shouldn't. Your heart," she reminded him. 

"Aww, okay, Quinn."

Wearing a resort robe much like Quinn's, Michelle walked up to them and said, "Hello, Jake. Did you two enjoy the luncheon?"

"It was great!" he said. "Free samples from all the franchises that are here looking for investors. Didn't you go?"

"No, I decided to take a break, since Andrew decided to do the same. Your daughter invited me to join her at the spa."

"Isn't she thoughtful?" Jake proudly said.

"Very." 

Jake checked his watch and said, "Sorry, gotta go. The 'Feeding your Inner Carnivore' seminar's about to start!" 

Michelle watched him hurry away and said, "Do I really want to go back to that? I wonder how hard it would be to find a woman-run company."

Leading the older woman into the spa, Quinn said, "Maybe you could just start your own."

* * *

Squinting through her glasses and feeling her way along the wall, Amy slowly made her way down the stairs. "I know Helen has coffee and aspirin somewhere." Near the bottom of the stairs, she could smell the magical drink and hope was renewed. "Ah."

Looking relaxed and happy, Daria and John sat together on a sofa with their feet propped up on the table, both drinking coffee as they watched Amy. John said, "Good afternoon. The aspirin bottle is next to the coffee pot, along with the sugar. Milk is in the fridge."

Blinking in pain from the pounding in her head, Amy said, "You're a gentleman and um, something."

"Why don't you get some coffee in you, then you can try talking," Daria suggested.

Amy grunted and made her way into the kitchen and the coffee. A minute later, she shambled into the living room and sat on the sofa opposite Daria and John. "Helen and I sure set a good example for you last night, didn't we?" she sarcastically stated.

John said, "It was amusing."

"And very educational," Daria also said.

"Oh, jeez," Amy said, rubbing her face. "That bad?"

"You and Mom had some interesting experiences when you were younger," Daria answered, teasing her aunt.

"A very different time," John piped in with more teasing.

Amy wearily gazed back. "You remember everything we said, don't you?"

Both teens nodded, slight smiles on their faces.

After time to think, Amy's face reddened in embarrassment and she asked, "Daria, when you poured me into bed, did I really tell you to, um…"

"Yes." 

"Oh, crap. I was completely out of line. Please tell me you didn't. Wait, both of you are almost…glowing. Oh, crap, crap crap. You did."

John said, "We didn't." 

"Don't try to pull my leg," Amy said in return, "you did something."

Daria took a deep breath and said, "Let's leave it at 'something' and not go into any more detail."

* * *

Waiting just inside the entrance of the hall hosting the plenary session, Quinn stood with Michelle and said, "Those guys thought I was married to…ewww!" 

Michelle knowingly sighed and said, "With the number of trophy wives being paraded around here, I'm honestly not surprised some of the idiots thought that, though you'd expect them to notice the family resemblance."

Jake emerged from the milling crowd. "There you are!"

Relieved, Quinn said, "Hi, Daddy. I'm so glad you're here."

"So am I! I got the consulting contract for BG's Barbeque Brew-Hall. Real wood cooking and real ale brewed on site; it can't miss!"

Uncertain of the wisdom of taking the account, but still glad to see her father in a good mood, Quinn said, "That's nice, Daddy."

The crowd turned as a man stepped up to the podium. After a brief rumble as he adjusted the microphone, the man said. "Due to unforeseen circumstances, Terry Perry Barlow will not be able to present the Plenary Address. We regret the inconvenience and thank you for your understanding."

"Aw, man," Jake grumbled. 

Soggy, and with a small strand of seaweed caught in his hair, Andrew entered the room and found Michelle. "What a jerk." 

"Accident?" Michelle asked, barely hiding her amusement.

"A sudden crosswind ripped the sail, stranding us," Andrew explained. "Terry whined like a college intern for an hour until the Coast Guard pulled us back to port."

"How did you get wet?"

"He slipped getting off the boat and grabbed me. Good thing we were right next to the dock or he would've had a meltdown. I couldn't even talk the man into one decent contract. The whole day was a waste." 

"I'm sorry, honey," Michelle said.

"Any luck with my contacts here?"

Michelle started leading him away, saying, "About that…"

Jake followed them and then turned his sight to the empty podium. "Wow, I guess you can't just judge a guy by his book."

"I guess not," Quinn said. She started to guide him out, saying, "Why don't we go pick up those things Daria wanted on the way to the airport?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I think I've seen enough here. I'm ready to go home."

* * *

Both still feeling the remains of their hangovers, Helen and Amy talked at Amy's car. Helen rested against the corner of the convertible's windshield and Amy sat in the driver's seat.

"We acted like a couple of fools," Helen said. "Next time you visit, we don't drink."

Amy started her car and said, "Agreed. Normally, I'll only get that drunk with my friend Paula." She turned to Daria and John, standing behind and to one side of Helen. "I normally don't embarrass myself that much."

Helen started to chuckle and then turned also. "Amy and I certainly set a fine example for you two. I don't understand it: you get any of us sisters together, and we're either fighting or drinking and acting like a couple of college girls."

"Or worse. I'm going to say goodbye before I do anything else foolish."

Helen, Daria and John said their good-byes and watched as Amy's car vanished down the road. Helen followed Daria and John into the house and paused at the foot of the stairs. "I'm going to get a little more rest before your father and Quinn return. But before I do, I want to say how proud I am of you for acting so mature when Amy and I were not. A lot of teens would've taken advantage of the situation." 

Self-conscious, Daria said, "Uh, thanks, Mom." 

She and John waited until they heard the bedroom door close before going to the kitchen and sitting at the table. Feeling guilty, John said, "That was awkward."

Feeling the same, Daria said. "Very."

"But it would've been worse if…" John began to say.

Daria reached across and gently rested her hands on his. "Yes, and I thank you for being so understanding."

Warmly, John smiled. "It's all right that you decided you weren't ready to go all the way." 

She brought his hands up and kissed them. "It means a lot that you didn't keep trying."

"Begging and pleading would've been undignified, plus you'd have used it against me later."

Daria smiled at the joke, but said, "I'm serious, thanks. I need to feel that I can trust you like that." 

"I'm glad I earned it."

Daria's cheeks turned pink with a blush. "But I enjoyed everything we actually did up to that point."

"So did I. Does this mean we have new boundaries?"

She let go of his hands and caressed his cheeks before kissing him. "Yes."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading. 

October 2007


	33. Tiptoe Through the Ivy

Sorry for the delay in updating and thank you for your patience.

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the thirty-third John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Tiptoe Through the Ivy**

Telephone held to her ear, Helen turned her office chair away from the computer monitor to face her assistant, who was waiting at the door. Into her phone, she said, "Absolutely. Consider it done. Ill stay here late tonight if I have to. Were just happy to be in business with you. Bye-bye." She hung up the phone and muttered, "What a windbag." To Marianne, she asked, "Yes?"

Her blonde legal assistant said, "Mr. ONeill from the high school is on the line about a parent/teacher meeting. I need to know which excuse to give him."

Reading a brief on her desk, and a little annoyed, Helen said, "Which one of my children is it about this time?"

"John."

Helen sighed in tired frustration. "The buffoon is probably upset by something John drew in the margins again." A quirky smile very briefly passed Helen's lips. "Tell him I have to do my _pro bono_ work with the animal research lab. That should get him off of my back for a while."

Marianne giggled at the remark. "That sounds like one of your daughter's lines."

"It is. I had Daria write some new excuses for me."

"So what did it cost you?"

"Will cost me. Her plans have priority for John's birthday next month."

"She's turning into a little romantic, isn't she?"

"Dont tell her that."

Sensing motion behind her, Marianne said, "Yes, Helen, back to my transcriptions," and made a fast exit, slipping past Eric in the process.

He glanced over his shoulder and said, "I like how you motivate people to work hard, Helen."

Helen said, "Oh, Eric. I only try to set a good example to keep the firm number one."

Boastful, he said, "We are, and thats what brings me in here today."

Helen accepted a pamphlet from her supervisor that read, "Quiet Ivy Spa. Renewal and Rejuvenation for the Spirit and Soul." She looked up in mild surprise and said, "The retreat?"

Eric grinned. "Its your turn, Helen. The big dogs think youre ready."

"This is such a." she stopped as she read one particular line. After re-reading, she asked, "And my family?"

"That's right, Helen. We want to see you wearing all three hats; wife, mother, and lawyer."

"I see."

"If we like what we see, it may just lead to hat number four: partner," he cheerfully said before heading back out of the office.

Helen watched him leave before saying in a low voice, "And what are they going to think when they learn my daughter's boyfriend lives in the next room?"

* * *

  
At dinner, Helen waited until John finished dishing up pasta and sauce to everyone. "Thank you, John." She then passed a pamphlet to each family member. "I have good news. The firm is sending all of us on a retreat."

Quinn happily said, "A spa? A facial would be really great."

"Dont get too excited," Daria said. "Its a spa for the soul. Damn, I could've gotten a better price for yours if I'd only waited."

"Ha, ha," Quinn said in return. "A facial wouldnt be a bad idea for you, either."

Daria read from the pamphlet, "We exercise your inside instead of your outside." Looking up, she smirked and said, "I bet your pancreas could sure use a workout."

"Eww, Daria! I'm not one of your weird posters."

Helen gave Quinn a questionnaire from the spa. "Girls, this retreat is about family togetherness. You get to have fun while I get to show Im partner material."

Daria took a questionnaire without looking at it. "Hmm, you're being graded on your family life. Are we supposed to be Alphas or Betas?"

Helen shook her head. "Sweetie, they just want to get to know us before we arrive. What's wrong with that?

"They only want to know who to include in their secret breeding program."

After Quinn laughed, Helen sighed and said, "Jake, I could use some help here."

A forkful of pasta halfway to his mouth, Jake turned to John, who was also concentrating on his dinner. "Tasty spaghetti sauce there, John!"

Helen reached across the table and moved her husband's fork down to his plate. "Jake, a little help."

"Sure Helen, great idea!"

She shook her head. "John?"

He shrugged. "Hey, could be worse. They could be sending my other family on this retreat."

Helen sat back and relaxed a bit. "Thank God for small miracles."

* * *

  
Daria sat, propped against the headboard of John's bed, while he sat at his computer, fiddling with a graphics program. She said, "Okay, your turn. Which animal would you rather be: a dog, a seal or a lion?"

He said, "Hmm, already said bat for you. How abouta parasitic wasp. You know, the kind Ms. Barch told us about that can eat a caterpillar from the inside while it's still alive."

"Oookay. Now explain your choice in a brief sentence."

"I don't want to make an effort to get my food."

"I could almost believe that," Daria said while writing his answer on the form, "If I didn't know better."

"Hey," he said in defense, "Cooking around here is survival. Unless you want to eat frozen lasagna or your Dad's attempts"

"Point taken. Favorite pastime?"

"You used the 'water into wine' bit, so I'm claiming talking to a burning bush."

"Got it."

John looked over at Daria. "You realize that they're going to try to lock us up for these answers."

"If they don't have a sense of humor, they have no business poking around in people's heads."

"I'll remember that while trying to wiggle out of the straight jacket."

"Didn't Max's brother teach you how to do that?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Stage magician or something?"

"No."

"Then how did he learn?"

"Considering it was Max's brother, it was better not to ask."

"I see," Daria said with a nod. "If they do lock us up, I'm expecting you to rescue me."

John smiled and spun his chair away from the computer to look at Daria. "I can't exactly picture you as a damsel in distress, but I'll see what I can do."

* * *

  
"Daria! John!" Helen yelled up the stairs. Her annoyance could almost be physically felt.

The call distracted John from the computer game and before he could recover, a zombie horde had overrun his character. "Dammit!"

Sitting on a chair next to him and close enough for their legs to touch, Daria rolled away and said, "Forget Zombie Slayer, Moms on the warpath, though becoming a zombie might be a preferable option to what she might do to us."

Helen stood at the door, holding up their questionnaires. "With what you two are capable of doing, did you really expect me not to look before I faxed these to Quiet Ivy?"

"We were just having a little fun?" John said, knowing how lame it sounded.

"Very little." Helen gave their questionnaires back to the teens. "This retreat is very important to me and I cant afford for some psychologist to misinterpret one of your jokes as something serious. God only knows what kind of conclusions they couldve jumped to with what you two wrote. This time, fill them out with some real answers."

"Yes, Mom," Daria said.

John nodded and said, Okay, Helen."

"I expect them before you go to bed," Helen said before turning and leaving the room, her aggravation still readily apparent.

"Oops," John muttered.

"Big oops," Daria said. She reached for the computer mouse and closed out their game. "It looks like we have a change of plan for the next hour or so."

"And Id almost made it through level eight."

"Next time," she said and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

John looked down at the form and said, "UmI think we need to figure out how much we should reveal about our relationship. Its not exactly what youd find in a model family."

"I dont see anything in the questions that would be revealing."

"Favorite pastime?" John asked.

"Damn." Daria thought things through, then picked up a pencil, erased her first answer and proceeded to write a replacement. "Well be honest. Lets face it, once we get to the retreat, you know that between five people, someone will say something and theyll know about our relationship anyway."

"Good point."

Daria gave him a slim smile. "Though under favorite fantasy, you might want to leave out the dArtagnan bits."

"Youre not going to let me live down those berry hallucinations, are you?"

"Nope. But hey, at least your fantasies dont involve webcams."

"Eww. With my luck, Id get fan mail from prison inmates."

Daria looked at his form. "I wouldnt mention that, either."

* * *

  
Squeezed into the back seat of the Lexus with Daria and Quinn, John squirmed and said, "Even though theyre hideous looking, minivans have a third seat. Something you might want to consider for the safety and comfort of your passengers."

Speeding along the highway, Jake said, "Hmm. I need the Lexus to impress clients. Hey honey, how about replacing your car with a minivan?"

"Not until we pay off one of our existing cars," Helen said. "Sorry, John, but even we have limits to how much money we can spend. After all, we really werent expecting another child when we bought these."

Quinn also moved around, trying to get comfortable. "You know, John has a point. Were really squeezed together back here."

"Yeah, Mom," Daria said. "Why dont we trade places and see how much you like it back here."

"I spent plenty of time squeezed into a back seat with Rita and Amy when I was growing up," Helen said.

"Mom," Daria replied. "Weve seen the pictures; Grandpa had one of those station wagons that had room to land small aircraft on the roof."

"Yes, and thanks to Rita, the back was always full of luggage and all three of us had to squeeze into the middle seat."

"Damn," Daria muttered.

"I survived, and so will you." After Jake made a hard swerve passing another car that threw everyone from side to side, Helen sighed and said, "If your fathers driving doesnt kill us."

"Oh, and I suppose you can do better," Jake growled.

"The fact that Im not one ticket away from a suspended license says that," Helen barked.

"Mom," Daria tried to calmly say.

"Thats because the cops are out to get me and wont stop you because youre a lawyer!"

"Dad," Daria again tried to calmly interject.

"No, they dont stop me because I dont give them a reason!"

"Hey!" Daria said in a voice that was not shouting, but carried through her parents argument.

"What?" Jake and Helen said.

"How about letting John or me drive?"

"No!" they said.

"Do you have any other ideas to get us to this retreat in one piece?"

* * *

  
Daria pulled the car to a stop in front of Quiet Ivy. "Here we are and somewhat intact," she said.

Trapped between her parents in the back seat, Quinn said, "I really need to get my license."

"Yeah," John said. "Why should you miss out on all the fun?"

Helen muttered, "Maybe we do need to get a minivan."

A pleasant looking woman came out of the front door and approached the car as everyone crawled out. She said, "Good morning, Im Dr. Bacon and you must be the Morgendorffers."

"Yes, we are. Im Helen; this is my husband Jake, our daughters Daria and Quinn and our foster son, John."

"Pleased to meet all of you. Welcome to Quiet Ivy. If youll follow me, Ill show you to your rooms while some of our staff will bring your luggage and park your car."

"Hey, thats some great service," Jake said. Suspicious, he asked, "Um, how much should we tip?"

Dr. Bacon smiled. "No tipping, please. Its all part of our complete client care policy."

"Wow! I like this place already."

Daria whispered to John, "That way, they have the car keys so we cant escape."

Walking through the tastefully appointed lobby, John said, "Pretty nice looking place for a loony bin."

"Its all a clever ploy to keep us off-guard," Daria said. "I bet all of the people here are animatronic."

"That would explain the happy faces. I wonder if they have our replacements ready."

"The basic frame, but I bet they need to scan us in person to get all of the fine details."

Last in line behind Daria and John, Quinn said, "Keep it up and youre going to get all of us put away."

* * *

  
Sitting in the guest lounge, Daria said, "Plenty of computers to keep us distracted."

In the chair to her left, John said, "I think we should handle this like a meeting with Dr. Manson at school. Get in there, let the brain docs think theyve poked around in our heads for a while and then make a fast exit. I bet with their computer connections, _Demon Slasher Online_ will be a blast with no signal lag."

"John, there are real shrinks here, not some diploma-mill quack like Manson. We need to be careful."

"Ah, now I understand the procrastination about going in for our appointments."

"Exactly. I dont like people poking around my head."

"Im not too thrilled myself, but I think Id rather get it over with than wait around in anticipation."

"You always were a jump right in kind of person."

"And you like to torture yourself by going into to the water inch by inch."

A mans voice said, "I believe psychoanalysis is our job, not yours."

Daria and John looked up to see a man and woman wearing lab coats. The man smiled and said, "Im Jean-Michel Millepieds and Ill be your counselor today, John."

"Hi," John said with a quick nod. _There's something about that name_

The woman said, "Im Carolyn Millepieds, and Ill be working with you, Daria."

Daria folded her arms. "I suppose its a coincidence that a couple was assigned to work with us?"

"No coincidence," Carolyn said. "Your questionnaires indicated that you were a couple in a rather unusual situation and it was decided that Jean-Michel and I would be the most appropriate people to work with you."

John turned to Daria. "Your mother had to catch our answers and make us rewrite them."

"We often use humor to protect ourselves," Jean-Michel said. "The rest of your family has already started sessions with their counselors."

Daria stood and said to John, "Remember, we check each other for electrodes when were done."

Carolyn gently placed a hand on Darias shoulder to guide her forward. "Oh, dont worry. We use implantable ones now. Youll never find them."

Daria gave her a quick glance, smirked slightly and said, "Damn."

* * *

  
Dr. Bacon looked across her desk and said, "All right, Helen. I thought we might start off with a little word association."

Seated somewhat rigidly in a chair, Helen nodded and said, "Okay."

"Red."

"Blue."

"Pen."

"Pencil."

Dr. Bacon said, "Magnet."

"Attraction."

"Relaxation."

"When the hell can I do that? Oh, wait, can I say something else?"

"Its okay, your answer's fine. Next word, 'Child.'" When Helen only stared ahead and failed to answer, Dr. Bacon said, "Helen?"

"Oh, sorry," she said, shaking her head to clear it. "Too many things going through my head at once."

Raising an eyebrow while writing a note, Dr. Bacon said, "Marriage."

"Hope."

* * *

  
On a couch, Jake stared up at the office ceiling. "What do you want me to talk about?"

Classically sitting in a chair beside the couch, Dr. Hinkel said, "Anything you want."

"I want? I thought this trip was for Helen."

"The family visit is about how your wife relates to her family. This session is about you."

"Me? Really?"

"Yes."

"Okay!"

After a long moment of silence, Dr. Hinkel said, "Discuss anything you like. You can even ask me questions if you like."

Jake rubbed his chin and said, "Hmm. Do you know any good recipes for low-fat lasagna?"

* * *

  
Seated on a comfortable armchair next to her counselor, Quinn said, "Hardly anybody sees how the Fashion Club booth is such a huge responsibility. I mean, people expect us to be there every day after school to help them with their fashion crises. We can barely keep up with the demand. It would be so much easier if they'd let us research _Waif_ and the other fashion magazines during study hall, but no, Mr. DeMartino makes us do homework instead. Ugh, that's what later is for."

Priscilla, Quinn's counselor, looked at her watch and yawned, fighting to stay awake and look somewhat interested.

"And then there's Daria and John," Quinn said. "How can people that smart be so clueless? Don't get me wrong, them being together is really sweet and all, but I swear, sometimes I feel like I'm their keeper."

Priscilla cocked her head, becoming interested again. Quinn noticed the change and said, "Everyone knows they're the best behaved couple at Lawndale, if you know what I mean. But, they get so wrapped up in each other that they don't even see what's going on around them."

* * *

  
Daria sat on the edge of a couch while Carolyn settled down on an armchair and prepared her notepad. Daria said, "Here's the family dynamic in abstract. Mom resents that she has to work so hard and miss what's going on in her children's lives. On top of her guilt over her drive to make partner, I'm amazed that she hasn't lost it already. After being in a household full of X chromosomes for fifteen years, Dad's glad to have another guy around. But, he still swings from considering John his son to considering him the greatest threat to my feelings for Dad. So, he acts clueless, but John and I have seen otherwise. Quinn wears her popularity like a suit of armor because shes afraid to allow anyone to get too close and see how fragile she can be. Instead, she tries to romantically live vicariously through John and me by helping us along at every opportunity. I've finally learned not to be so defensive and let a few people get to know me and not reject them before they rejected me, like I do everyone else."

"Uh-huh. What about John?"

* * *

  
John sat in a chair in an almost mirror image of Jean-Michel, only with a sketchpad instead of a notepad. The counselor asked, "You wanted to get directly to the point, correct?"

"Yes."

"Very well. How do you feel about living in the same house as your girlfriend?"

"Whew, there's no beating around the bush with you, is there?"

"It sounded like you wanted direct."

"I did say that," John admitted. "Okay, living with Daria isthe best thing that's happened to me, and the most frustrating."

"Frustrating? What are you frustrated about?"

"Do I really have to spell it out?"

"It helps me to understand if I hear it in your words."

John sighed. "Okay, it's sex. Daria's sister is in the room across the hall from her and my room is as close to Jake and Helen's as it is to Daria's. Everyone has gotten a lot better about giving us time together compared to when I first moved in, but there's always this doubt"

"Go on."

"There's also my sister. She got herself pregnant in high school and I can tell you, it sucked to be her. I don't want that to happen to Daria."

"But"

"But I find her very beautiful and very attractive. I love Daria and I wish we could do more."

Jean-Michel wrote a note and then set the pad aside. "'Do more' implies you've done something."

"Um"

"John, both of you have reached the age of consent in this state, anything you say is protected by doctor/patient privilege, and I'm not a pervert out to hear details. Just tell me what you feel comfortable saying. It sounds like you two have experimented, but not, using the common parlance, 'gone all the way.'"

"Yeah, that's a good description."

"Some experimentation is healthy and natural, and I must say your maturity is admirable."'

John looked up at the psychologist. "Thanks."

* * *

  
"Consider yourself lucky," Carolyn said before sighing. "Some women never do."

"Oh," Daria said, suddenly embarrassed, both at her counselors hint and the realization of what shed just admitted.

Conscious of Darias discomfort, Carolyn flipped a page on her notebook and changed the subject. "All in all, you seem to be rather well balancedfor someone still trying to survive high school. Everyones family has their, um, quirks. You have them and a boyfriend you deeply care about."

"Umcan I ask you one more thing?"

"Certainly, thats why Im here."

"Do you think were too young to really be in love? I know the odds are really against us. First romanceswell, are firsts. First implies more than one and most peopledont find the right person on the first try."

"I wont try to hide anything. Youre right, the odds are against you. Almost everyone will have a first love and a lucky few an only. The rest of us will go through a broken heart or two and learn to pick up the pieces. I cant tell you what it will be for you. I dont think anyone honestly can. But the alternative is never knowing. I dont think you want that."

"Tis better to have loved and lost," Daria said.

"True, but I can say this. In times past, people married earlier in life and many did fall in love with each other at your age, so its not impossible."

"In other words, a resounding maybe."

After checking the clock on the wall, Carolyn said, "Our session is almost over and you covered a lot of ground. I dont think I need anything else and so can set you free a little early."

Daria stood, saying, "After Ive revealed my deepest, darkest secrets to you."

With a half-smile, Carolyn said, "They may be your deepest, but I dont think they were your darkest."

"I still cant believe..." Daria then recognized what had happened, crossed her arms and said, "Oh, youre good. Even my mother couldnt have got me to, um, talk about what we talked about without some kind of extreme and probably illegal hypnosis."

"Its my job to listen when a patient needs to talk. Sometimes, you need to be a little patient to get them to talk."

"You might be right; I needed to talk. I wouldnt feel comfortable telling Jodie. Saying anything to Brittany would be the same as getting on the school PA, and Moniquewell, Johns brother is her ex-boyfriend."

"I can see where that would be awkward."

* * *

  
Quinn was just outside the counselors office when John left. She looked inside and said while falling into step with him, "I knew I'd heard an accent. How did you get the French guy?"

"Lucky, I guess," he said. "But then, I also noticed that they assigned women to the women and men to the guys."

"Oh, yeah."

They started walking toward the guest lounge. "How was your session?" John asked.

"Okay. Yours?"

"It wasdifferent."

"Good different or bad different?"

"Different different."

"Ah. Huh?"

"You'd have to be there. I wonder if Daria's free of her shrink yet?"

Quinn pushed the lounge door open and looked in. "She's already on a computer."

"Great."

John went to Daria while Quinn looked around for someone interesting to speak to. Not finding anyone, she chose a seat that had a discreet vantage point to watch her sister.

John pulled out the chair next to Daria. "Hi."

She closed her web browser and said, "Hey."

"How'd it go?"

Daria looked down at the keyboard. "A little more open than I planned."

"Yeah, I know the feeling."

"You're too comfortable; I don't think you do."

"After talking about your family and us, I talked about mine and how screwed up they are."

Daria hushed her voice. "I talked a lot about us. In detail."

He followed suit. "Detail? What kind of detail?"

"When Mom and Aunt Amy were drunk"

Johns eyes bulged. "Oh."

"So you didnt say anything to your counselor?"

"He let me stop at saying weve experimented and I was happy to change the subject to my family. Knowing you, Im surprised you said anything."

"Youre surprised? Once I started, I kept talking. She even knows about your sneeze. Im glad Im protected by doctor/patient privilege."

"Your secrets safe with me, too."

"Our secret. I know that in the long run Mom would understand, but Im not ready for her to find out, yet."

"Youre not ready?" John said. "Im the one likely to lose body parts."

Daria faintly smiled and leaned over to kiss John. "And I dont want you to lose them."

Curious, and feeling like teasing her sister, Quinn walked over and said, "What are you two being so hush-hush about?"

Daria jumped and then said, "Nothing that you need to worry about."

"Uh-huh," Quinn said with a smirk. "A little nervous?"

"Surprised," John said.

As a lead-in, Quinn said, "What kind of dirt did you spill on Mom and Dad?"

John shrugged. "Nothing really bad."

Daria said, "Certainly nothing worse than they could say about each other in their couples session."

"What about yourselves?" Quinn asked, enjoying their flash of discomfort as she hit her main point of interest.

Daria countered, "Arent you worried about any dirt on you?"

"On me?" Quinn said, tapping fingers against her chest. "There isnt any."

Daria stood and whispered in Quinns ear. The younger girl blushed and said, "Um, yeah, there is that. But your session is over."

"We still have the family session."

"Yeah, Im curious," John said.

Quinn quickly looked between the two. "You wouldnt!"

"Probably not," Daria said. "Butit is there."

"Okay, for now," Quinn replied.

Daria returned to her chair. "Good. Now, lets hope Mom and Dad dont completely freak out on each other."

Quinn looked back toward the counselors offices. "I hope so."

* * *

  
The entire family, plus Dr. Bacon, was seated around a table in the retreats main dining room. Daria and John were to the doctors left, Jake and Helen to the right and Quinn directly across the table. John looked at the plate of food that appeared special but he was sure was as lacking in flavor as any other institutional food.

"Finally, Im starved," he said, digging in and finding his speculation to be correct.

Jake started eating and after a couple of bites said, "Needs something. Hey John, how do you think a little wasabi-bacon powder would work on this?"

Dr. Bacon interrupted them by saying, "All right, Morgendorffers. Ive analyzed the data from your individual sessions and I believe I know our next step."

"Pedicures?" Quinn hopefully asked.

"No," Dr. Bacon replied. "I was thinking about a little role playing."

"Eww! On the ground?" Quinn said, though John and Daria caught the quick wink she sent their direction.

"I mean, you will take on each others roles. Act like someone else."

Quinns gaze went from her parents to her sister. "You mean like Daria and John act like Mom and Dad."

"Very good," Dr. Bacon said and looked at Daria. "Why dont you and John start?"

Daria shot Quinn an "Ill get you," look before sighing. Letting a fraction of her mothers voice creep into her own, Daria said, "I suppose. You know, this would be a great family bonding experience, dont you think so, Jake?" The last was directed at John.

John was startled and said, "Oh, umsure honey. Hey, do you think my new clients will like my feta cheese chutney casserole?"

Daria said, "Perhaps a nice lunch at" Daria stopped and held her hand next to her face as if holding a cell phone. "Hi Eric. You left your briefs at the strip club again? Let me take care of something at home and then Ill call the private investigator to retrieve them."

Helen uncomfortably chuckled.

Daria rolled her eyes and moved her hand away from her face. "As I was saying, perhaps lunch at that new sushi place might be a good idea. Some people are a little uh, uncomfortable with _avant-garde_ cooking."

"Great idea!" John said. That leaves more for the rest of us! Better than your idea of meat and potatoes seven nights a week, old man!"

"Excellent," Dr. Bacon said and then turned to Jake and Helen. "Now you, John and Daria."

Helen hesitated, then moved her chair closer to Jake and reached out to hold his hand. She looked around a couple of times and said, "Looks like we have a few minutes alone."

Jake seemed confused for a moment before he seemed to lose sight of everyone else and held up Helens hand and kissed it.

Helen leaned against him and said, "I feel pretty lucky."

"Me, too," Jake said, moving from Helens hand to kiss her lips and then they sat back, looking contentedly into each others eyes.

Without thinking, Daria reached over and held Johns hand, feeling that her parents were beginning to understand how she and John felt about each other.

Sweetly, Jake and Helen moved into a close embrace and kissed again. Without breaking their kiss, they became visibly more excited and slid to the carpet between the chairs as everyone else looked on in surprise.

Recovering first, Daria looked down and pointedly said, "We are not like that."

Quinn said, "Yeah, you two are way more tasteful."

"And besides, the floor is too hard," John said, earning glares from Daria and Quinn.

Dr. Bacon said, "Helen? Jake? Hello? Youre upsetting the other guests."

* * *

  
Back at home, John knocked on Darias door and came in as she was unpacking from the trip. "If thats really the way your mom and dad thought about us, no wonder they were so paranoid for so long."

"No kidding, though they did act rather sweet before their hormones kicked into overdrive," Daria said. "I have to admit that after recent events, they might know us better than we thought."

"I can see that, but we dont do things in public."

"When we notice," Daria corrected. "Dont forget the school dance where everyone was watching us and we were as oblivious as your brother to the world."

"Mmm."

"Yeah, mmm."

"But the floor is right out."

"Right out."

* * *

  
Eric entered Helens office and stood by her desk, reading the last of the report from Quiet Ivy. Helen looked up from the paperwork shed been reading and said, "Eric, about the retreat."

"I have the report right here," he said.

"Oh," Helen said, looking at her desk.

Eric read from the report, "Helen Morgendorffer exhibits a complex mix of aggressive devotion to career with an equally determined devotion to her husband and family, both of which can, at times, can only be described as extremely enthusiastic."

"Yes," Helen said, trying to understand what had been said.

Eric placed the report on Helens desk. "Congratulations! Youre just the kind of go-getter we need to show that a woman can get ahead in this firm and still have a family life. Damn, youre going to make us look good. Were putting you on the partnership fast-track!"

"Really?"

"Yes! Well show that State Womens Association. Now, lets go to court and kick some ass!"

"Yes, Eric, just a moment."

After he left, Helen read the report and sighed. "I suppose I could be called worse things than, extremely enthusiastic."

* * *

  
Dialog from: _Psycho Therapy_ by Neena Beber

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

March 2008


	34. Barbeques and Gridiron

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the thirty-fourth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Barbeques and Gridiron**

Followed by Kay Sloane, John and Daria wandered through the Lawndale Art Museum. At one particular painting, John ducked under the velvet rope and stood back up inches away from it. He closely scrutinized the brush work for long seconds before whistling and saying, "Damn, that's phenomenal."

Behind the rope, Daria said, "Well, from what I hear, Maxfield Parrish was known for having a dash or two of talent."

John went back to examining the painting. "Yeah, but seeing it on the hoof is justwow."

"It is kind of amusing that you are this impressed," Daria said. "You're usually not that into this kind of realistic painting."

"You don't have to be into realism to appreciate the brushwork and control, just like you don't have to write like Shakespeare to appreciate his genius."

"Point taken," Daria said. She checked her watch and sighed. "I'm sorry to break this to you, but our time is almost up."

"Already?" he asked, almost whining.

"We've had the place to ourselves for two hours."

John ducked back under the rope and took Daria's hand. "Sorry, it all seemed to go by so fast."

"Yeah, time flies and all that," Daria said, squeezing his hand.

Behind the couple, Kay Sloane sweetly said, "I hope you enjoyed yourselves. It's so nice when young people show such a real interest in art."

"Thanks, Mrs. Sloane," John said. "I'm really serious about my art and being able to examine these works up close has been amazing."

Daria said, "You've been very understanding in letting us in before hours."

"One of the perks of being on the board of directors," Kay replied. A little wistful, she added, "I hope Tom or Elsie will be as interested some day. Until then, I'll be happy to help their friends that are."

John smirked. "Even disreputable art types like us?"

Kay chuckled. "I wouldn't object."

"She doesn't know us very well, does she?" Daria said to John.

* * *

On their way home after a quiet, private lunch at a small restaurant on the edge of town, Daria stopped at the park near home and shut off the car. She turned and said, "Happy birthday."

John moved over and kissed Daria. "I can't believe you pulled that tour off for me."

"Mrs. Sloane wasn't a problem; I think she likes Tom having friends outside of that prep school. Going through Quinn is what cost me."

"Do I want to know?"

"You'll find out one way or the other, just keep quiet about it. It was part of the agreement."

"Okay"

"Quinn's going to be taking her PSTAT soon and wants some help preparing. I think Tom has rubbed off a bit on her."

Finding that he wasn't as surprised as he thought he would be, John said, "I don't see how that would come up in conversation, so her dread secret is safe."

"The fun part is going to be fitting that in with our tutoring assignment with Kevin and Brittany."

John sighed and shook his head. "Something I'm really not looking forward to tomorrow."

"Oh yeah, especially since this time, it's at Kevin's Grand Temple of Football."

John put his arm around Daria and said, "It's my birthday and I say we change the subject," before kissing her.

Daria put her arms around him. "I think I can agree to that."

* * *

That evening, John's painting session was interrupted by Quinn asking, "So, how did it go?"

He turned to see her standing in the doorway. "After the private tour of the art museum, we had lunch at _The Venetian_. Daria even paid the violin player to stay on the other side of the room and leave us alone. Hey, it was pretty cool that you helped set up the tour."

Quinn shrugged and smirked. "You keep Daria happy and that keeps her out of circulation."

John shook his head. "You're still at it. Even if she wasn't seeing me, I can't see Daria being any threat to your social position. She simply wouldn't be interested in dating a lot of guys."

Quinn rested her forehead on one hand and shook her head. "You can be so clueless. Okay, if Daria had stayed the way she was back in Highland, yeah, the guys wouldn't notice. But because of you, she's been noticed. If she were available, guys would be trying to go out with her, and since she's so pickywell, that would only make her more interesting."

John tried to say something, stopped and thought for a moment before finally voicing, "I'm glad we're not involved in all that. It lets us focus on writing and painting."

"Keep it up," Quinn said with a quick smile. She turned and started to leave, but said over her shoulder, "Oh, and you'd better remember to do something just as romantic on _her_ birthday."

* * *

Sunday afternoon found Daria and John in Kevin's room, gathered at a table with him and Brittany. Around them, the room was a shrine to football and Kevin's prowess at the sport. "Hey!" Kevin said, excited to recognize something Daria mentioned during the study session, "I saw that in a movie. What was it called? Oh yeah, _Toga, Toga, Toga_."

Daria's jaw clenched, but she held her voice calm. "That was _Tora, Tora, Tora_, Kevin. Not too bad, as movie history goes."

Brittany twirled her hair around a finger and said, "Ooh, I hated that movie. There was no love story in it."

"No, Brittany," Daria said. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing romantic about the attack that brought the US into the Second World War."

"I think they should make a new movie with a love story in it. Maybe get someone dreamy like Ben Affleck in the lead."

John rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock. "Well, now that we've got all the major players involved, I think it's time we take a break."

"Cool!" Kevin said. "Mom's got sodas and stuff downstairs. Let's go."

Watching her boyfriend almost sprint out of the door, Brittany sighed and said, "Would you like me to bring something up for you?"

John said, "We'll follow you down. I could get up and stretch, anyway."

Downstairs, Charlene Thompson was taking sodas from the refrigerator when Daria, John and Brittany arrived. Kevin stood by the sink, already drinking from a can. Charlene said, "I was about to bring something up for you kids."

"A little stretching is good," Daria said, quietly glad to be off of the hardwood chair she'd been sitting on.

Charlene placed the sodas on a tray and handed it to her son. "Take this upstairs for everyone, that's a dear boy."

He took it with one hand, "Sure, Mom."

Charlene then handed a tray with chips and dip to Brittany. "Could you please take this up?"

"Um, sure, Mrs. Thompson."

Charlene then said to Daria and John, "We're having the annual Football Barbeque here next Saturday. I really appreciate you keeping my son off of academic probation and I hope you'll be here."

John said, "I was planning on entering something in the Lawndale Downtown Art Show. I picked up the application when Daria took me to the art museum for my birthday."

"Oh, happy birthday! All the more reason for you to come to the barbeque. You don't have to stay at the art show, do you?"

"No, the judging won't be until Sunday."

"Then there's no problem! I look forward to seeing you next week."

"Um, sure," John said, avoiding eye contact with Daria.

"Oh, you're going to be at the barbeque, too! That will be great!" Brittany said just before she started upstairs after Kevin.

In a low voice, Charlene said, "I don't know what possessed Ms. Li to do something so level-headed as to make you my Kevin's tutors, but I'm glad. Now, maybe he has a real chance to graduate from high schoolunlike his father."

Upstairs, they could hear Brittany tell Kevin, "Daria took John to an art museum for his birthday."

"Why would she do something like that?" Kevin answered.

"Um," Daria said, backing away from Mrs. Thompson. "We better head back upstairs, too. The Japanese just bombed Pearl Harbor and I don't want to leave them hanging."

* * *

Daria and John caught up with Jodie and Mack the following Monday at lunch. After everyone took a seat, Jodie said, "How was your birthday trip, John?"

"Pretty cool. Now, I'm going to have to come up with something as good for Daria," he said.

Mack said, "Do they have unlimited access cards for libraries?"

"Hmm, that's something to think about."

Daria said, "When we were over at the Thompsons helping Kevin and Brittany study, Mrs. Thompson invited us to the football barbeque next Saturday. Any survival tips?"

"Don't get between Mr. Thompson and the keg or the grill," Mack suggested.

"Keg?" John said. "Wait, they were serving beer on that stupid cruise ship, why not at the star quarterback's house?"

Gently teasing, Daria said, "He figured that out all by himself. I feel so proud."

"How did you get invited?" Jodie asked, somewhat surprised.

"Mrs. Thompson appreciates us tutoring her precious Kevin," Daria explained.

"Oh yeah, Ms. Li's bright idea to keep Kevin from being lynched by the rest of the team. As for advice, what I can add is to expand on what Mack said. Don't get between anyone and the food or the beer."

Mack said, "And be prepared for more sports talk than you can probably stand. A lot of the 'chaperones' are parents just as devoted to the cult of football as the Thompsons."

"Looks like we'll have to hang out with you two."

Jodie made a sad face and said, "Sorry, but we're not going to be there."

"What?" Daria said. "How are you not going to an event that brings honor and glory to Laaawndale High?"

"I wish I could be there," Jodie said with a sigh. "My dad's hosting a fundraiser for Congressman Sacks. Even with Ms. Li present, the sleaze factor will be lower at the barbeque."

John asked Mack, "You too?"

"Moral support," Mack answered. "And to keep her from killing the congressman or her dador both."

Daria heavily sat back in her chair. "So we're going to be surrounded by football players, cheerleaders, their parents and teachers with no back-up."

"Plus any other students that might be invited. Considering how popular she is with the sophomore football players, there's a good chance your sister and the rest of the Fashion Club will be there, too."

"Oh, my cup runneth over," Daria said, feeling another layer of doom descend upon her.

* * *

In his room, John worked over an abstract sculpture, adding a complex layer of multi-colored paint to the surface. The young man paused and grabbed a handful of candy from a nearby bowl. "I thought about using gummy bears for the color, but I keep eating the things."

Daria, who was sitting on his bed writing, asked, "Gummy bears?"

"If you nuke them, they melt into a really cool glaze."

"Art that attracts every bug in the building by saying, 'eat me.' I don't think the art show people would appreciate the humor."

"Hmm, I hadn't thought about that. It's a good thing I went with the paint." He then cleaned his brush, flexed his hand and said, "I could use a break."

"In other words, you're hungry and you want something other than what you've been munching on," Daria said, closing her notebook and rolling off of the bed.

"Now that you mention it"

Daria gave him a fast smile and said, "Not thatat least with Mom and Dad downstairs."

"Dammit," he playfully said. "Then I guess it's raiding for chips and dip or something equally unhealthy."

When they reached the kitchen, Helen was at the table reading through some paperwork. She looked up at them and said, "You've been busy tonight. Homework?"

Going directly to the refrigerator, John said, "Working on my project for the art show since I can't put it off until Saturday like I'd planned."

"Oh?" Helen said. "And what's stopping your well-planned procrastination?"

Daria replied, "Mrs. Thompson personally invited us to the football barbeque, as a thank you for tutoring Kevin. It would've been rude, even by my standards, to turn down the offer."

"Oh, that was nice of her," Helen said. "See what happens when you reach out to others?"

"Yes, I believe it's called positive reinforcement," Daria said, letting only a little sarcasm filter into her voice.

Helen let the comment slide and asked, "Who else will be there?"

John ticked off on his fingers, saying, "The football team, the cheerleaders, parents, most of the Lawndale faculty and guests invited by any of the above."

"Meaning that this will be a great chance for you to network with your fellow students and teachers in a friendlier setting," Helen said, sounding very pleased.

* * *

Wearing a breezy, trendy spring outfit, Quinn bounced down the stairs talking on the phone. "It'll look fine, Stacy. Don't worry."

Both dressed pretty much as normal, John and Daria were in the living room preparing to leave. John carried his sculpture and Daria was holding the door open.

Quinn said, "Anyway, we can talk at the party. Bye." She turned the phone off and said, "You're wearing that same old stuff? Granted, it's better than your old green jacket, Daria, but still. It's a party. You could do something a little nicer."

Daria sighed and leaned against the door. "There's going to be a bunch of football players eating sauce-covered meat with their hands. I'm planning on keeping my distance, but there's no telling how far the splatter range will be."

"Not to mention chips and dip. You can bet there will be salsa dribbled all over the place. I'm going to be careful of where I sit."

"We can probably skip the whole sitting part; it'll only make us stationary targets," Daria said.

"Hmm, good thinking," John said as he continued past and to the old blue car.

Quinn looked down at her nice clothes and said, "Note to self: keep your distance from anyone eating."

* * *

After John had dropped off his sculpture at the Lawndale Civic Center downtown, Daria drove them to the Thompsons' and found that they had to park on the street almost a block away from the house. The street was lined with cars and the entire front yard of the Thompson residence was filled. Already familiar with the house, they walked around the side to the back yard, which was filled with people milling around or watching the grill.

Doug Thompson, wearing a sweatsuit, jogged out of the house with a package of hamburger buns in his hands. He reached a rather large outdoor grill and said, "Doug Thompson scores and lifts his buns high in the air!" He laughed at his joke, then placed the bread next to a platter of premade burger patties. "Hey folks, welcome to the annual Lawndale High football barbeque. Grab some food, make yourself at home, and feel free to toss around the old pigskin. And if she objects, use a football." Once again, he laughed and a few others joined in.

Watching, Ms. Barch said, "I see where Kevin gets his charm."

Walking close, Daria nodded to the beer keg a short distance from the grill and said, "If you think he's charming now, wait until he's had a few."

"Oh, great!" the teacher grumbled before stalking away.

John took Daria's hand, saying, "I can tell that this is going to be such a lovely day."

* * *

"Daria! John! You made it," Brittany squealed, almost bouncing as she came over from the other cheerleaders.

Beside his girlfriend, Kevin said, "Hey, dudes."

"Hi, Brittany," Daria said. "Hi, Kevin."

John nodded and also said, "Hi."

"Why are you dressed like always?" Brittany asked.

A middle-aged man walked between them carrying an overloaded plate of munchies. A blob of chili-cheese dip fell from the plate and hit the ground next to Daria's boot, splattering it with unnatural colored orange goo. Daria looked down and then back at Brittany, who then said, "Oh."

"Excuse me," Daria said. "I want to find a napkin to wipe that off before it eats through the leather."

"Oh, that would be bad," Brittany said as she led Daria to large folding table covered with food. She picked up a couple of napkins and gave them to Daria. "Here."

Following behind the two girls, Kevin said to John, "You know, it's kinda freaky, but our babes are starting to, um, bond or something."

Beyond the fact that Daria and Brittany stepped away together, John was aware that he was walking beside Kevin. "I can think of more unsettling things."

While Daria started cleaning her boots, Kevin grasped Brittany's hand and led her away. "Come on, Dad's about to light the grill."

She tugged back slightly and said, "Okay, but not too close this time."

Surveying the various foodstuffs as he reached the table, Mr. DeMartino said, "Ms. Morgendorffer and Mr. Lane, what a pleasant surprise."

Still kneeling, Daria said, "Shh, I'm incognito."

"I can't blame you for wishing to hide, though I am curious as to why you are here at all."

"A side effect of Ms. Li's 'Peer Tutoring' program," John said, also starting to peruse the table. "I figure we can ignore our fellow students and just raid the food."

"Ah, yes. Curious timing about that," Mr. DeMartino said, starting to load two plates.

Ms. Li came up behind him and looked as if she were going to say something. Mr. DeMartino gave her a brief nod over his shoulder and went back to his task. When she spotted the teens, she said, "Daria Morgendorffer and John Lane. Kudos to you for coming out and mingling with your fellow students and teachers."

Daria stood and said, "Nothing says togetherness like the ritual consumption of burnt animal flesh."

A loud "whoosh" announced that Mr. Thompson had lit the grill.

Kevin pumped his fist and said, "Go, Dad!" while Brittany slowly shook her head.

John looked over at Mr. Thompson backpedaling from the grill and said, "Or human flesh."

Daria also looked and said, "I hope he wasn't attached to those eyebrows."

* * *

Quinn and her friends in the Fashion Club found a picnic table as far away from the food as possible and settled down to watch and be seen. Looking at the crowd, Sandi said, "That's your sister and her boyfriend. I guess they're moving up in the world."

Quinn shrugged. "There's lots of people here."

Tiffany said, "She still looks so pale."

"Yeah," Stacy said. "I hope she's wearing sunscreen or something. I hate it when you get burnt and your skin starts to peel off."

Before Tiffany could even start to say, "Eww," Sandi said, "Stacy, we don't need to hear about your trip to the beach again."

"Sorry, Sandi," Stacy mumbled.

Looking back at Daria, Sandi said, "Sunburn is a fate too horrible for anyone, even the unfashionable. Quinn, is an intervention needed?"

Wanting to avoid what she knew would be an embarrassing confrontation for her friend, Quinn replied, "No, Sandi. I made sure she used sunscreen before she left the house."

"Very forward thinking. That's why you're the vice president."

"Why, thank you, Sandi."

"Though I don't know why you would let her come to a party in that thing she's worn several times already."

"I thought I'd take one step at a time, Sandi," Quinn said. "With brains like hers, you just can't rush things."

"I see. Maybe we should go over and say, 'hi' to her. You know, let her get used to being around good fashion in a, like, low pressure kind of way."

Tiffany said, "Great idea."

Skirting the edge of the crowd, Daria and John unwittingly encountered Mr. O'Neill coming around from the other direction. He said, "Daria, John. I'm so happy to see you."

Daria and John mumbled, "Hi," and fruitlessly hoped to avoid further conversation. John wondered, _Why does everyone seem to be so happy to see us out of our element?_

Mr. O'Neill said, "Isn't it fun to have teachers, students, and parents all mingling together free from the confines of the classroom?"

John motioned toward Mr. Thompson holding the tap and pouring beer into a plastic cup for one of the parents. "The beer looks pretty free, too."

"Oh, um, yes," Mr. O'Neill mumbled, embarrassed by the rather immature display.

"Hello, um, Daria," Sandi said as she reached them. "How are you today?"

Unquestionably surprised by Sandi's approach, Daria slowly turned to the Fashion Club and said, "Okay, I guess."

"I hope you're having a good time," Stacy cheerfully said.

John half-smirked and said, "It is rather amusing to see what spawned some of our fellow students."

"Yeah," Tiffany slowly said. "It's like, what happened to them?"

Daria said, "That whole aging thing is pretty brutal."

"But isn't that what plastic surgery is for?" Tiffany innocently asked.

From the house, Mrs. Thompson appeared carrying a couple bottles of barbeque sauce. She went to her husband, who had returned to the grill, and said, "You left them in the kitchen." Looking around, she loudly asked, "Now, where has Kevin and that Brittany gotten off to now?"

In shock, Sandi said, "She's wearing the same sweatsuit as Mr. Thompson." The rest of the Fashion Club turned to look, also showing surprise, though Quinn seemed to be a little amused.

Mr. O'Neill, still listening to the teenagers, said, "I think it's rather cute that they have matching clothes."

Daria turned to John and said, "Should I be worried that they consider somebody to be less fashionable than me?"

John put his arm around Daria and started to lead her away. "I'm more worried that Mr. O'Neill considers it cute that two adults dress alike when it's not Halloween or hunting season."

* * *

"Thanks," John said as Mr. Thompson placed a hamburger on his plate.

Mr. Thompson scooped up another two hamburgers and put them on John's plate. "Aw, have three. He's a growing boy, right Daria?"

Daria groaned and said, "You could say that."

"I bet!" Mr. Thompson said, laughing. When he spied Ms. Li, he waved and said, "Ms. Li, can we talk?" To Daria and John, he said, "Hang on, you two."

"What can I do for you?" Ms. Li said when she reached them.

Not bothering to lower his voice, Mr. Thompson said, "Are all those tutoring sessions for Kevin really needed? I'm sure Daria and John here have better things to do and Kevin can use the extra time to work on his throwing arm. I really think we can take the state championship this year."

Ms Li glared at him, annoyed that he would bring the subject up so publicly. "The tutoring Ms. Morgendorffer and Mr. Lane are so generously providing ensures that Kevin stays on the team so that he can lead Lawndale High to victory."

"Come on, Ms. Li," Mr. Thompson said. "He just needs a few byes like before. They were good enough for his old man; they're good enough for Kevin."

Stern, Ms. Li said, "Mr. Thompson. In my judgment as a professional educator, what we are doing is in the best interest of both your son and Lawndale High."

John whispered to Daria, "And all this time, we thought she was just covering her ass."

Daria shrugged. "Same thing."

"You're with me, right?" Mr. Thompson said to Daria and John, before adding with a wink, "You have other things you'd rather do with your time."

Hearing the discussion, Mrs. Thompson came up behind her husband to say, "Which I'm sure doesn't include getting in a family way."

"Whoa, Charlene," he said while turning. "Daria's a smart girl; she won't make the same mistake we did."

"Damned right," Mrs. Thompson shot back. "And as long as they're studying with Daria and John, I hope Kevin and Brittany won't either."

The discussion had also attracted Kevin and Brittany, who now stood beside Daria. Brittany said, "This is kinda freaky how they're talking about us."

"I actually agree with you," Daria said.

"I'm confused, babe. Are we getting protection from John and Daria? I thought we got it at Drug-N-Stuff," Kevin said.

Carefully balancing his food, John suddenly started to gently push Daria, Brittany and Kevin away from the grill area. "I'm hungry; let's go eat."

"Our plates are over there," Kevin said, pointing to a table. "Let's go. I'm hungry, too."

Walking away with the other couple, Daria whispered to John, "What was that about?"

He whispered back, "It's that damn conscience thing. It didn't sink in to Kevin that his dad said he was a mistake and I don't think it would be a good idea to hang around for another shot."

Moments later, they heard Mrs. Thompson say, "If only I hadn't had that third cup of 'hunch punch' at the prom"

John and Daria picked up their pace as he said, "I'd like a third cup of brain bleach."

They sat and started on their burgers, trying to ignore the continuing argument around the grill. Mr. Thompson's voice cut through their efforts as he said, "Will you women chill out?"

Shrill voices made them look up to see Mr. Thompson spraying Ms. Li and his wife with beer from the keg tap, forcing the watching crowd to scatter while Quinn and the rest of the Fashion Club sat, unconcerned and safely out of range.

"Damn," John said. "I left my camera at home."

"Yah!" Ms. Li cried and kicked the tap out of Mr. Thompson's hand, revealing that sometime in the past, she had some form of martial arts training.

"You go, girl!" Ms. Barch yelled from across the yard.

Mrs. Thompson grabbed the tap and began spraying Mr. Thompson. "Why don't _you_ chill out?"

He sputtered and backed away. "I'm just trying to help our boy!"

"By making him follow in your footsteps?" she screamed. "You flunked your senior year! I want Kevin to actually go to college and play football!"

"He'll get in," Mr. Thompson yelled, between dodging the beer and taking quick gulps. "When he wins the state championship!"

"Wow, Kevvie, your mom is really mad," Brittany said.

"Yeah, I haven't seen her that mad since Dad came home with the stripper."

John said, "Yeah, that sounds like a bad move."

Mrs. Thompson stopped spraying beer and tossed the tap aside when she realized that her husband was drinking what he could of it. "And end up like that bum, Tommy Sherman?"

Kevin looked at John, and then quickly at Daria. "Man, Tommy Sherman was totally uncool. Daria, you've gotta help me."

* * *

Arms folded, Helen glowered at Daria and John when they returned home. "Why, pray tell, do you smell like beer?" she demanded.

John said, "You're probably going to find this hard to believe"

Helen warned, "That's usually not a good start."

"Kevin's parents got into a fight," Daria said. "Mrs. Thompson kicked the keg."

"Keg? The Thompsons had a keg at this barbeque?"

"Adults only," John said. "Like the cruise."

Helen sighed. "Go on."

Daria said, "The keg fell over and the tap broke off, spraying beer. We were caught in part of the splash."

"I'm supposed to believe that?" Helen said.

"It's in the police report," John said.

"Police report?"

Daria said, "The neighbors called about a disturbance. The cops arrived, we gave statements, the Thompsons didn't want to press charges against each other, the cops left, and then everyone went home."

"You're provisionally free for now, since I can check that storywhich I will."

John said, "We understand." He sniffed himself. "Do you mind if we go upstairs to change? This is some really bad-smelling beer. I don't even think my brother's band would drink it."

"I have dibs on the shower," Daria said as she moved past John up the stairs.

* * *

Combing his damp hair and wearing fresh clothes, John left the bathroom and went to Daria's room. "Hey."

Daria was lying on the bed with hands behind her head, gazing at the ceiling. "Hey back."

John sat on the corner of the bed and looked up at the ceiling cracks. "They're still there."

"Yep."

"Wanna talk?"

"Life was a lot easier when I was a complete outcast who was never invited to parties."

"You have to admit that it was amusing. Well, most of it."

Daria let a small smile form on her lips. "In a slapstick kind of way. But was it worth it?"

He looked down and saw the smile. "I guess we won't know for another year."

"That's what I get for having principles."

John reached over and held Daria's hand. "You'll be making a difference in a child's life."

"A real big child," Daria said, sitting up.

"Kevin sounded like he was really sincere."

Helen stood in the doorway and cleared her throat. "Your story checked out."

Daria nodded, as did John.

"You two look to be deep in conversation. Is there anything I can do?"

Daria rested her head on John's shoulder and asked her mother, "Do you have any advice on tilting at windmills?"

* * *

Some dialog from:  
_Mart of Darkness_ by Rachelle Romberg

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.  
April 2008


	35. Give Me a C!

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the thirty-fifth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Give Me a C!**

Daria allowed herself a faint chuckle as she watched her father and John standing on ladders beneath a new ceiling lamp in the dining room. Jake was trying to read the instructions while John was twisting a cap onto a wire splice.

Jake yelled, "Dammit! What do all these squiggles mean?"

Daria smirked and placed her hand on the light switch. "Maybe a little light will help."

Jake shouted, "No, Daria! Dont!"

"I was joking, Dad."

"Besides," John said, looking around the fixture hanging by the wires. "We flipped the circuit breaker for the kitchen before starting."

"Oh, um, yeah," Jake admitted.

John took another cap from his pocket and started to twist a second pair of wires together. He said, "Daria, we're almost done here."

"I'll go see what excitement is going on in the living room," Daria said, turning and walking away.

A TV announcer very seriously said, "The man who rescued Donna that snowy Christmas Eve was no ordinary roadside mechanic. The authorities have no record of his existence, but someone, or something, fixed the tire on her sport utility vehicle. To this day, Donna believes it wasa guardian angel."

Quinn was seated on the sofa, sniffing and gently blotting away tears with a tissue.

Daria stopped next to the sofa and said, "Too bad the angel didnt throw in a brake job before they went out and Donna lost control, hitting that dynamite factory."

Quinn said, "You wouldnt say that if your life were touched by an angel."

"If my life were touched by an angel, my boots would be explaining that I'm not interested."

"Daria! Dont even joke like that. Angels are everywhere and can hear you."

John said, "There sure wasn't a guardian angel around when Tommy Sherman was beating the crap out of me."

Quinn said, "But Ms. Li showed up pretty fast to stop things."

"Do you really want to think of Ms Li as a guardian angel?"

"Ms. Li?" Shocked, Quinn gulped, picked up the remote and turned the TV off. Daria sat on the sofa to Quinn's right and said, "Since you're not watching TV, do you want to do some more studying for the PSTAT?"

Quinn shook her head. "Daria, you're brutal."

"You're the one who wanted help, remember?"

"Yeah."

"You're not on a date and not fulfilling your Fashion Club duties, whatever they are, therefore, now's a good time."

Quinn looked over her shoulder. "And John's busy, so you don't have anything else to do, either."

"So we're both pathetic losers with nothing to do at the moment."

"Okay Daria, you win," Quinn said, getting up and heading toward the stairs. "See you in my room in a couple minutes."

Daria took her time following, faintly saying, "If you do well on the test, you win."

* * *

  
Jake looked up at the new ceiling light glowing and proudly said, "We did it."

_Without burning down the house or electrocuting ourselves._ John said, "Yep, we did."

"You know, my old man never would've let me help with something like this," Jake started to explain.

Hearing the telltale pitch in Jake's voice, John said "He wanted to spend more time yelling at the wires to fall into parade formation." to quell the approaching rant.

Jake laughed and said, "You bet he did!"

John looked at the refrigerator. "How about some dinner? I'm starved."

Jake nodded and grinned. "Boy, will Helen be happy to have the light fixed and have dinner ready when she gets home!"

"Um, right. That too," John replied, hoping that Jake wouldn't expand on how happy he thought Helen would be.

* * *

  
Seated at her desk, Quinn expectantly waited as Daria checked her sample test. "How am I doing?"

"Hold on a moment," Daria said as she counted missed questions.

John pushed the door further open and said, "Hey, dinner's ready and we now have light to see it."

Daria held up one hand while she finished counting. She wrote down the score and looked up the equivalent in the standard test score. "Good timing, we're about done here."

"What did I get?" Quinn asked.

"Ten-thirty-five; a nice improvement over the nine-fifty-five you got on your first sample test."

"Hey, that's good," Quinn said. "You said that most schools want a thousand, so I'm in."

"Quinn, that's the minimum. If you don't have much of anything else to offer, likeI hate saying this, good extracurriculars, a minimum PSTAT score won't get you in."

"Then why am I studying like this?"

"Because that nine-fifty-five you started with wouldn't even get you considered. We still have time to bring your score up a bit more, if you want to work on it."

Accepting the truth of the statement, Quinn relented. "Okay." She turned to John. "You didn't let Dad cook alone, did you?"

John said, "Do I look suicidal?"

* * *

  
Helen was rubbing her tired eyes when she got home. After tossing her briefcase on the sofa, she turned to the kitchen where her family had already gathered to eat. "I'm going to kill Eric one of these days, I swear it."

"I don't think that's the kind of comment you want witnesses for," Daria said.

Helen was cheered a little by her daughter's humor. "I think I can make the case for justifiable homicide."

"What do you think of the new light?" Jake asked, grinning.

She looked up and noticed it. "Oh, Jakey, it looks wonderful. And you have dinner ready," she said, coming over and giving him a kiss. "Thank you, honey."

"John helped, too," Jake said, grinning from Helen's attention.

John held up his hand. "A simple 'thank you' will be fine."

"Thank you, John." Turning to Daria, she asked, "And what did you accomplish today?"

"Helping Quinn prepare for her PSTAT."

"Oh, sweetie, that's great."

"And think of all the money you're saving on prep courses."

Jake perked up. "Saving money? You're saving us money, Daria?"

Daria shared a fast, mischievous glance with John. "Doing my bit to help out."

* * *

  
Walking out of Lawndale High toward their car, John looked over Daria's shoulder at her report card. "All A's again, congratulations."

Daria half-turned and took John's from his hand. "I see you even have an A in something other than Art and a B- in Math."

"I'm inspired," he said, quickly giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Technically, we're no longer in school, so Li can't complain about me kissing you."

Daria leaned against him and then let out a sigh as she saw Brittany running toward them. The cheery blonde said, "I got a C! I got a C!"

Daria stopped Brittany from waving the report card and read it. "A C average. Very good, Brittany."

Brittany threw her arms around both of them. "I never knew I was so smart!"

John peeled himself away, saying, "You never know what you've got in you, huh?"

"Be careful, Brittany," Daria said, "With great power comes great responsibility."

Kevin came around the corner of a building and spied them. "Hey, Brittany!"

She spun and ran toward him. "Oh Kevvie! I got a C!"

He stared at her chest. "Um, babe, they look the same to me."

She looked down and then stamped her foot. "On my report card!"

"Oh. Um, cool?"

Brittany gave him a tired look and then asked, "What did you get?"

"I got a D+. I think that studying helped."

John whispered to Daria, "Now that would almost make me believe in the supernatural."

"A D+!" Brittany exclaimed, jumping up and down. "We need to celebrate!"

"A party?"

"I'll ask my dad. Daria, John, you have to be there!"

Dread caused by memories of the recent football barbeque made Daria feel queasy. "If we don't have plans for something else."

"Okay!"

* * *

  
Holding the phone by two fingers, Quinn entered John's room, finding him staring at a blank canvas on the easel and Daria flat on the bed, her head hanging over the side. "John, it's that brother of yours. You know, Trent."

John flipped the brush he was holding into a cup and took the phone. "Thanks, Quinn."

Making a quick exit, she said, "Don't take too long, I'm expecting a couple of calls."

"It's my brother; he never talks a lot." To the phone, he said, "Hey, Trent. What's up?"

Trent said, "Hey, Johnnie. Busy Saturday?"

John looked quickly at Daria and said, "Do you need something?"

"Need some help with a gig."

A smile spread on John's face. "We're there."

"Cool. See ya Saturday."

"What time?"

"Five, maybe six."

In the background, John could hear Max yell, "Can they stop at Cluster Burger and grab us something to eat?"

Trent said, "Um"

John didn't let him finish. "I heard, and sure, we'll grab a few burgers for the band. We know how much you need to keep your energy up."

"Okay, we've got a plan."

"See you then."

"Yeah, later."

John turned off the phone and sat next to Daria, leaning over to kiss her neck. "What would you say if I got us out of Brittany's party Saturday?"

"I'd call you hero for the day, though if we're roadies for Mystik Spiral, I hope that this time the gig has indoor plumbing."

* * *

  
Standing outside of Mr. O'Neill's classroom, Daria said, "I'm sorry Brittany, but we can't make it to your party. John's brother is in a band and needs help for Saturday."

John said, "I'm the only family he has in town and besides, he's my brother and we've kind of looked out for each other."

Brittany nodded and seemed honestly disappointed. "It won't be the same without you there, but okay."

* * *

  
In her room studying with her sister, Quinn crossed her arms and said, "Daria! Brittany's party is tonight and I don't want to be unfashionably late."

"I know, Quinn," Daria said, "But this is your last weekend to study before the PSTAT. Give me another half hour and I'll let you off the hook, okay?"

"Half an hour? That leaves me only two hours to get ready!"

"The more study time you eat up complaining, the less time you'll have to get ready for the party."

Quinn frowned and turned away. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Maybe a little."

Quinn spun her chair around. "A lot."

Daria shrugged. "It makes up for dealing with you complaining about needing two hours to get ready for a party."

"Okay," Quinn demanded. "How long is it going to take you to get ready?"

"None. I'm not going."

"You're not going?"

"John and I are helping his brother with a gig tonight. We see Brittany almost every day; John doesn't get to see Trent as much anymore."

"Oh, that makes sense."

"So, are you ready to get back to studying?"

"No," Quinn said, "But I'll do it anyway."

"Good."

"Only half an hour, right?"

"Half an hour."

* * *

  
John pulled into the alley beside Axl's Piercing Parlor and drove around to the back, parking next to the Tank. Seeing a total lack of activity, John said, "Either they've already loaded the van or they're still asleep."

After the car stopped, Daria got out and said, "Maybe they're trying to determine the philosophical importance of an E sharp chord."

"Too quiet for that."

"There is the chance they've already discussed it and have knocked themselves senseless."

"It would simplify loading."

Carrying two take-out bags from Cluster Burger in one hand, John loudly knocked on the door with the other. When there was no response, he opened it and said, "Hey, Trent!"

The band was gathered in a circle in the small living room, staring intently at something on the floor between them. Trent looked up and said, "Hey, Johnny."

"What the hell is so fascinating?"

"It's a puppy."

John came in and looked at the small, black dog frolicking at the feet of the band members. As far as he could tell, it looked like a cross between a bull terrier and a cocker spaniel. Daria followed and said, "Trent, you can barely feed yourself, how do you expect to feed a puppy?"

"I don't."

"You don't?" Daria asked.

Jesse said, "It's Axl's."

Max said, "He's going to be a guard dog to protect the place."

"And Axl's buying the food," Nick said.

Trent squatted down and scratched the puppy's head, who in return licked his hand. "He's already given me an idea for a song."

John asked, "Does it have a name?"

Max squatted and said, "Damien. He's going to be a killer guard dog."

The puppy gave a yip and bounced over to Max, licking his face.

"Yeah, a real killer," John said. "Is he going to help us load the Tank?"

"Ah, man," Jesse said. "I knew we forgot something."

Max said, "Forgethey, John, did you remember dinner?"

John held up the bags and the band quickly gathered, grabbing burgers and starting to eat.

Nick looked at Damien, held out his sandwich and said, "You want some?"

John tossed the empty bags aside and grabbed an amp. "Maybe it'll be easier this way," he said to Daria.

"As long as you remember that I draw the line at physical labor beyond that of lifting a book."

"Then grab the mike stand," John said.

While the band ate, John got most of the equipment loaded, with help from Daria beyond what she'd implied. Jesse and Max finished eating first and helped to complete loading.

Sitting in the open side door, Daria asked, "Where are we going tonight, by the way?"

"It's a house party," Nick said. "Hey, doesn't someone have a map?"

Trent scooped several scraps from his pockets and finally retrieved a rumpled sheet. "Yeah, here it is."

Max waved toward the van. "Then let's go!"

Watching the band climb into the van, Daria said, "They still haven't answered my question."

John shrugged. "So what? We're getting away from it all."

* * *

  
John and Daria really didn't mind being crammed into the back of the van amid the gear since it afforded them some privacy and a chance to be close. Their cuddling was interrupted by Trent saying from the passenger seat, "Ah, man, I always have problems dealing with authority."

"That's why I'm driving, remember?" Max said.

"Oh, yeah."

"Besides, it's only the guardhouse."

From outside of the van came a voice familiar to John and Daria that said, "Residence you're visiting, please."

"Um, just a sec," Max said, grabbing the directions off of the dashboard. He read, "Um, Steve Taylor."

Daria closed her eyes and slumped against John. "Dammit."

The guard at the gatehouse said, "Okay, yourbusiness?"

"Hey, we're Mystik Spiral!"

The guard checked his list and then said, "Ah, okay. Entertainment staff. Go ahead, sir."

Max pulled away from the guard house and John said, "You're playing a party at the Taylor's?"

Jesse said, "Yeah, that's the name. You know 'em?"

"Yes, we do. I thought Mystik Spiral didn't do high school parties."

"A gig's a gig," Trent said. "Besides, he's paying us double what McGrundy's does."

Face still buried against John's chest, Daria mumbled, "The universe hates us."

* * *

  
"The band's here!" Brittany said, happily hugging her father. "Oh, thank you, Daddy!"

"Nothing's too good for my little girl," Steve Taylor said.

Trent said, "Um, hey. Where do we set up?"

"In the living room. Follow me," Mr. Taylor said.

The band followed and then Brittany spotted the teen couple. "Daria! John!"

"Hi, Brittany," Daria said.

"I thought you couldn't make it."

"We're helping the band," John said. "Surprise."

"Oh, you two," Brittany said, taking it all in as a joke.

"No, we really are helping the band," Daria said as she picked up a cable coil.

"Wow, you know them?" Brittany said.

"Trent's my brother," John explained. "I thought I'd mentioned that before."

Brittany looked back through the open door of the house, twirling her hair on a finger. "Hey, he does look like you."

"If you'll pardon us," John said, "We need to start unloading."

"Oh, okay. I'll be inside helping Ashley-Amber get the chips ready."

After Brittany was gone, John said, "I suppose that Ashley-Amber would be of more use than Kevin."

"Yeah, she wouldn't eat them before everyone showed up."

Picking up an amp, John said, "Maybe we can hang out in the van and avoid the party."

Walking toward the house, Daria shook her head. "You know that wouldn't work, Brittany would come looking for us."

"She's mostly harmless," John said. "And she means well."

"I know, it's just, you know how I feel around crowds."

"We'll try to stay out of circulation as much as possible. Maybe we can hide behind the ceramic tigers."

"We better make sure the speakers aren't aimed in that direction."

* * *

  
Holding a "Mystik Spiral" banner by one corner, John stood on a stool to hang it from the wall with a large blob of poster-tack. The peculiar aroma of smoke, beer, and other unidentifiable components coming from the fabric made him squint and say, "I wish that they would wash this thing sometime."

Holding the other side, Daria wrinkled her nose and said, "I'd say burn it, but I think that would violate several sections of the Clean Air Act."

The one person that John considered to be even "bubblier" than Brittany, her step-mother Ashley-Amber, entered the room. When she saw them, Ashley-Amber said, "Brittany said you surprised her! That's so sweet."

"Hi, Ashley-Amber," John said as he stepped down from the stool and moved it to the other side of the banner.

Daria handed over the banner edge and moved aside when he stepped up on the stool again. She said, "We were a little surprised ourselves."

"Oh, I love it when that stuff happens."

"Um, right," Daria said.

* * *

  
By the time the party had really started, Daria and John had placed some chairs behind the mixing board for the sound system and used the amps to further make them inconspicuous. "That was almost as much fun as dental surgery," Daria said.

"Next time," John said, "We follow your lead and make sure that we know where the band is playing before we agree to help."

"Exactly,"

John grinned and said, "At least this place has indoor plumbing."

"Oh, and let's not forget that they finally installed the Jacuzzi, or all of the people from school whom we told that we wouldn't be here."

"Yeah, that was kind of awkward. Hey, the band's about to start playing."

Trent coughed, held up a note card and spoke into his microphone. "Were Mystik Spiral and were here to honorumBrittany Taylor."

Light clapping rose from the gathered students.

"This is a new song." Trent glanced over his shoulder and nodded a rhythm to start the band. "Called, _Every Dog Has His Day_!"

_You put me on a short leash, and threw away my hydrant.  
You ate up all my kibble, now my coats no longer vibrant.  
My nose is dry and chapped, but this puppys here to stay.  
Scratch my belly baby, every dog has his day._

At the end of the verse, all four band members started howling like dogs. Daria flinched and looked at John. "That poor puppy is going to be blamed for that."

"Nah, Trent will forget his inspiration after a week or two. I'm more worried about the puppy having to hear it himself."

* * *

  
At the end of the set, an uncomfortable-looking Trent shuffled and said, "Thank you. Were, um, the band Mr. Taylor hired and he wants to say something."

Mr. Taylor came up to the microphone and held it like a dodgy game show host. "Hey kids! We're so proud of Brittany's C average that we have a present for her. Ashley-Amber, if you please."

She came into the living room from the den holding a large, hinged case. Ashley-Amber stopped next to Steve and presented the case, tilting it slightly forward for all to see as he opened it.

Mr. Taylor opened the case and brought out a glass bullhorn, which he presented to his daughter while saying, "Brittany baby, in commemoration of your C."

Brittany jumped and squealed, Oh, Daddy! Thank you! Settling down, she picked it up, stopped to think hard before slowly saying, Its a mechaphone? Hey, its like the ones we use for cheerleading.

Genuine near crystal, Mr. Taylor proudly said. Borrowed again from Brians college fund, but youre worth it.

Kevin examined the glass megaphone and said, Hey, this has a C on it. Even I know that Lawndale starts with an L.

Mr. Taylor cleared his throat and said, Its a C for her grade, Kevin.

Daria asked John, Should I be impressed that he knows that Lawndale doesnt start with a C, or disturbed that he couldnt make the connection about his girlfriends grade?

* * *

  
Daria had retreated to the snack table in the kitchen and grumbled, "_Behind My Eyelids_ doesn't sound any better with the new verse and Ashely-Amber trying to convince everyone to dance is just disturbing."

John held up bowl. "Nachos? Salt and cheese goop to take your mind off of the noise"

"I don't think that will help."

He set the bowl down and picked up a platter. "Donuts?"

"No, thanks. What I really need is someplace quiet where I can get away from the crowd for a few minutes."

* * *

  
"Daria!" Quinn said in a strident whisper when she saw her sister and John about to go into the laundry room. "I thought you were classier than that."

Daria rubbed her temples and said, "I need some quiet and this is, regrettably, the only place in the house where I can find it."

Quinn gave Daria a funny look.

"It's true," John said, "You know us, Quinn."

"Okay, but you two need a lookout so that you're not seen. If someone sees you two coming out of there, it will hit the rumor mill in no time, and you know that'll get back to Mom and Dad."

"Are you volunteering?" Daria asked.

"Well, duh."

"What about you not being seen with the beautiful people around the party?"

"They're all hanging around looking at Brittany's silly glass bugle or hitting on your brother or that Jesse guy."

"You mean my brother meets with popular approval? Whoa," John said.

"Musicians are allowed a few fashion exemptions, but, eww. That's why I'm back here."

"That I can believe," Daria said. "Give us a few minutes andthanks Quinn."

Quinn looked around and made shooing motions with her hands. "Go."

Daria and John quickly stepped inside the laundry room and closed the door. Immediately, the sound of the party was muffled and Daria visibly relaxed. "Better."

John put one arm around her and Daria let her head rest against him. After a few moments, he said, "Do you remember the first time we were here?"

"Yes," she said, wrapping her arms around him and snuggling closer.

Mr. Taylor's voice broke through the relative quiet as he yelled, "That's my wife, you little puke! Im going to kick your ass!"

"That doesn't sound good," John said.

Another voice, clearly Upchuck's, cried, "Aaaaah!" accompanied by the sound of running feet and the crowd getting agitated.

"Doesn't sound good at all," Daria said, not moving from her comfortable position.

Next, there was a loud crash and louder crowd noises, possibly even cheering.

John asked, "Why is it that every time we go to a party, chaos prevails?"

"I don't know, but by now, you'd think that people would be superstitious enough to not let us in."

"We can only hope for the future."

The sound outside rose for a few more moments, and then fell off following the sound of tires squealing. Remaining in each other's arms, Daria and John went back to enjoying the quiet and intimacy. John stroked Daria's cheek and kissed her. She returned the feelings and slipped one hand behind his neck, pulling him closer for another kiss.

The outside world was quickly forgotten until Quinn knocked on the door and then cracked it open. "John, you better get out here."

John started and let go of Daria before proceeding to the door. "What?"

"He broke the mixing board!" Nick yelled in the distance.

"Look at my drums," Max also yelled. "He put the kid's head through the bass."

Quinn told John, "I think your brother's band needs some help."

"They always need help," he said, hurrying out to the living room.

Daria followed John out and stopped next to Quinn. "Do all high school parties have this kind of excitement?"

"No, usually, they're kinda dull."

"So everyone saves it up for when John and I are around?"

Quinn thought for a moment and said, "Hey, you're right. Something always happens when you two are around. We need to get you out to more parties."

"No, we don't."

Quinn smirked and reached up to lightly brush Daria's hair back into place. "Oh, really?"

* * *

  
Standing outside the front door, Mr. Taylor signed a check, tore it from the checkbook, and handed it to Daria. "This should cover everything for the band."

"I'll make sure they don't spend it on burgers and beer," she replied.

John guided Max past them toward the van, struggling to keep him on his feet. Max slurred, "I'm gonna get me Drumma'ter 3000 with my money."

"Sure, Max, but we have to get you back to Trent's first."

"Oh yeah, which way is that?"

"Right here," John said, pushing Max into the van. He scanned the inside to make sure the rest of the band was where he left them and then the ground for any more empty beer cans from their stash. Satisfied, he slid the side door of the Tank shut and said, "There, everything's packed."

Pocketing the check, Daria came up to him and said, "Good, let's go."

Around them, the party was breaking up and cars were driving away. Brittany and Kevin were making the rounds to say goodbye to everyone and stopped at the van. "Thank you for coming to my party," she said.

Polite, Daria said, "You're welcome, Brittany. And congratulations on bringing up your average."

Brittany suddenly hugged Daria. "I couldn't have done it without you and John!"

Daria squirmed, but accepted the gesture. "We showed you what to do, you did it."

Kevin looked down and scratched the ground with his foot. "Um, you know, it's good not to be on procloprobation any more."

"You're welcome, Kevin," John said.

"You know, being with a band makes you kinda cool," Kevin said.

Daria said, "We're unpaid roadies for them from time to time. We're not part of the band."

"But, you're here with the band; that makes it cool."

Daria shook her head. "I can't argue with that logic."

"Who'd have thought brains could be cool?"

Getting into the passenger seat of the van, Daria said, "It must be a miracle."

John crossed around the front of the van and got in. He called out, "Good night."

They pulled away and Daria slid down in her seat. "I'm glad that's over. I can't believe we started making out in the laundry room."

"So we got a little carried away; it was fun."

"John, we would've been carried away a lot if Quinn hadn't knocked on the door."

That made John pause. "Oh, yeah."

Daria reached across the engine housing to touch his right arm. "That doesnt mean I didn't like it, but we need to be more circumspect."

John glanced over. "What did your sister squeeze out of us this time?"

* * *

  
A week later, Quinn, Sandi, Stacy and Tiffany left the testing building after taking the PSTAT, along with a crowd of other shell-shocked looking students. Sandi said, "Well, that was a waste of perfectly good Saturday shopping time."

Tiffany slowly said, "I think my brain hurts."

"I didn't know we were supposed to know all that stuff," Stacy said. "I hope I did okay."

Noticing her mother's red SUV in the parking lot, Quinn said, "There's my ride. I'll see everyone tonight."

"See you tonight," Stacy said.

"Yeah, tonight," Tiffany added.

Quinn quickly crossed over the lawn to the car and climbed into the back. In the front, Daria was driving and John was in the passenger seat. "Are you ready for some shopping?"

Daria grumbled, "No, but I'll do it anyway. I gave you my word."

Quinn grinned. "It'll be fun, and besides, maybe we can find something really cute for you to wear to the next party."

* * *

  
Some dialog from _Groped by an Angel_ by Jonathan Greenberg

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

May-June 2008


	36. Promises

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the thirty-sixth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Promises**

Fists on her hips and eyes glaring with great intensity, Daria said, "Not just no, Hell no. So far this year, we've endured a dance, that stupid cruise, a night trapped on a mountain by a blizzard, Homecoming Court, the Thompson's Football Barbeque and Brittany's 'I Got a C' party. We've seen more than enough of our fellow classmates and we're not going to the prom."

Knowing that it had been a futile effort, Jodie said, "Okay, okay. I was just asking."

"And I was just answering in the most unambiguous terms possible."

"How about helping with the setup? We could really use John's artistry for the decorations and your writing skills for the program."

"Are you sure you want to turn artistic control of the prom decorations over to John? He doesn't follow creative directions very well."

"Hmm, that could be a problem."

"Look, Jodie, this time, please leave us out of it. That's all we're asking."

Jodie gave in. "You win. I won't bring it up again. I promise."

* * *

Sandi stared, dumbfounded, at the advertising poster for Star Teen Formalwear on the hallway bulletin board. Behind her, Stacy and Tiffany tried to see the poster while Quinn waited behind. Finally, Sandi turned and said, "Quinn, how did your sister get a modeling job and why have we not been informed of this vital piece of information?"

"Daria?" Quinn said, utterly confused. "Modeling? You do remember what she did when the Amazon Modeling Agency was here, right?"

Sandi stepped away so that the others could see the poster. Stacy and Tiffany gasped to see a picture of Daria in a trim, purple dress while John, in a formal tuxedo, held his hands around her waist. The logo on the poster read, "For all of your prom needs." Next to it was a similar poster featuring Jodie and Mack.

Quinn stared for a moment and said, "That's what she wore in the homecoming parade!"

Sternly, Sandi asked, "That's nice. Now will you please explain thisthis crime against fashion?"

"We've got to get rid of them!" Panicky, Quinn tore the poster off the wall and looked around. On the other side of the main office, she spied another bulletin board with the poster. She ran to it and pulled it down, too. "All of them!"

Stacy followed and said, "They don't look that bad, Quinn. Actually, your sister looks really cute."

"And the boy, too," Tiffany said, following behind Stacy.

Quinn spun around. "We can't let her see them."

Responding to the commotion and gathering crowd of students outside, Ms. Li stepped out into the hall and evaluated the situation. "Ms. Morgendorffer. What seems to be the problem?"

"Um, nothing, nothing, Ms. Li," Quinn said, trying to seem calm and failing completely.

The principal took the posters from Quinn's hands and opened them. "I didn't think that your sibling rivalry went as far as vandalism. Fortunately, we have plenty of posters to replace those you've damaged. Now, run along before I decide that corrective action is necessary."

"Yes, Ms. Li," Quinn said before hurrying away toward Mr. DeMartino's room, where she knew that Daria had her next class.

* * *

John watched Daria stare at the poster. "Daria?"

With a disturbingly unemotional voice, Daria said, "Star Teen Formalwear reserves the unrestricted right to use any photographs, drawings or other visual media associated with the official use of this product."

John said, "That was in the small print, wasn't it?"

"I never thought that they'd be so desperate for advertising that they would use a picture of me."

"Daria! Thank God!" Quinn came round the corner of the hallway. "I need to...uh, oh," she said, stopping next to John.

John asked Quinn, "They're all over the school, aren't they?"

"Um, yeah."

"This is bad."

"Really bad. Where did they get the picture?"

Daria said, "It has to be from the yearbook photos Ted took before the parade. I bet it's another one of Ms. Li's deals."

"Oh, Daria," Quinn said. "I was afraid that this would make you go all Dad on us or something."

Daria looked briefly at Quinn, shrugged and went into the classroom. "It's not like how I look is going to sell any dresses for them."

Quinn said to John, "That could've been worse, but I'm glad I'm not riding home with you two today."

* * *

John carefully entered Daria's room and crossed to her bed to sit next to her. "Hey."

"Hey."

He judged the time was as good as any. "So what part are you madder about? That your picture was used without your permission, or that you look good in it."

She sighed and leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Neither. Everyone's going to assume that we are going to the prom. Therefore, we'll have to listen to stupid questions about our plans for going and then stupid questions about why we're not going. Over, and over, and over and over. The casualties among brain cells could be high."

"Too bad you can't publish a column in the paper that says, 'We're not going.'"

"That would be too easy. You know people will have to ask to 'hear it in person.'"

"How about a shirt that says, 'If you ask me about the prom, I'll kill you.' Nah, Ms. Li would say that it violates the ban on violence-themed clothes."

"Why do people put such importance on a stupid dance?"

"Because they know it will be the high point of their pathetic lives?"

Daria tilted her head and kissed the side of his neck. "You sure know how to cheer me up."

He moved his arm around her waist and held her closer. "You looked good in that picture."

"Much to my embarrassment."

"Everyone saw us in the parade. It's not a secret."

"I know, but I'm not yet comfortable with it."

"Do you mind if I'm comfortable?"

Daria snuggled against him more. "Yes, you're very comfortable."

* * *

Jake set several serving dishes on the table and announced, "Bavarian beef, spaetzle, and sauerkraut."

Seated, Helen said, "Jake, you're not using one of your mother's recipes, are you? You don't need that much fat in one meal. None of us need that much fat in one meal."

"Don't worry," John said. "We skipped her advice that 'everything tastes better with a dollop of lard.'"

"Thank you." Helen cautiously leaned forward. "It smells good."

"I think it's the beer," Daria said, also deeply inhaling the aroma.

"Beer?" Helen said.

"Hartzwesten Dark," Jake proudly said. "I had to drive all the way to Oakwood, but it was well worth the trip."

"You drove all the way to Oakwood for beer?"

"It's really good beer, Helen."

"It's just like cooking with wine," John said, seeing Helen's concern. "It adds flavors and there's no alcohol left after it's cooked."

"What about what was left in the bottle?" she demanded.

"Um, I drank it," Jake admitted.

"What about the rest of the six-pack?"

Jake nodded to a single, permanent, swinging cap bottle on the counter. "It's sold in singles."

Helen settled down. "Good, as long as John didn't take care of it. This really does smell good."

Daria whispered to John, "She's worried about beer when Dad knocks back those hundred proof martinis?"

"She seemed more worried about me drinking. Let's face it; the beer has to taste better than Jake's martinis."

"Drain cleaner probably tastes better than Dad's martinis."

As Jake started to dish up the food, Quinn said, "Now that everyone is finished talking about Dad and John's cooking, do you want to hear my big news?"

"Oh, Quinn. What news is that?" Helen asked.

"I've been selected as one of the prom hostesses. Only four girls and four guys are chosen. It's a big honor."

"How wonderful," Helen said.

Jake said, "Way to go!"

Quinn wasted no time in asking, "I'll need to get a dress."

Helen said, "Of course, proms are an important part of the high school experience. You can use the gold card."

"Thanks, Mom."

Helen turned to Daria and John. "What about you? You haven't mentioned anything about the prom."

Daria shrugged. "We're not going."

"You told me that you were going to think about it."

"We did, and we decided not to go. I'm assuming that by 'think about it,' you meant for us to consider both sides and make a decision, not 'we agree and this soothes our egos.'"

Helen sighed in disappointment. "I don't suppose I could get you to reconsider? Proms are one of the high points of high school and I don't want you to regret missing the chance."

John said, "Yeah, I guess all that underage drinking and sex are hard to forget. Well, unless you drink too much, then you probably forget everything."

"John!" Helen said. "That's not what I'm talking about. Jake, tell them about how much fun you had at the prom!"

"Um, Helen," he said. "The military school didn't have a prom. But, we did have a dance and one year I had a date"

Daria quickly said, "Um, we've heard that one before, Dad."

"Huh?"

"No prom, we get it," John said, helping out.

"What would it take to get you to agree?" Helen said.

"Nothing that you can afford," Daria said.

Helen said, "That's not a reasonable starting point for negotiation."

"No, it's realistic. Mom, we really don't want to go. I'm being honest enough to admit that with a high enough bribe, I could be convinced to go. But, since such a bribe would involve several years' take-home pay for you and Dad...I don't think that you will be willing to pay it."

Helen dropped her head in defeat. "Okay, Daria. But if you change your mind, we're here to help you get ready for the big night."

"Don't wait up."

* * *

While John painted, Daria sat on his bed, writing. She looked up and said, "You really aren't interested in the prom, right? I've been doing the talking for both of us and I want to make sure."

"It's not a big deal for me. To let you in on locker-room talk, most guys are looking at this as a very expensive date with a greater than normal chance of getting laid and/or drunk in the process. Mack might see this as a chance to be romantic with Jodie, but really, he's the only one I can think of."

"Damn, you're starting to make me sound optimistic. I only wanted to stay away because it's a stupid, crowded dance."

"There is that, too."

"You know we're going to go through this even more next year as seniors."

"We can always say that we're worried about vampires crashing the prom."

"Nah, with our luck, Brittany would turn out to be a slayer."

John laughed and said, "Good one. Anyway, we need to deal with this prom and worry about that one later."

"Which means standing firm and saying, 'No,' regardless of the number of times we need to do it."

"Too bad we can't back that up with a brick to their foreheads."

"John, we don't want to give Ms. Li an excuse to sentence us to the prom. No bricks."

"Damn."

* * *

A few minutes after Daria left, Quinn knocked and cracked open John's door. "Hey."

"What's up?" he asked.

Quinn came in, but warily watched the hallway. "Okay, you're not going to the prom. I don't understand it, but that's you and Daria's thing and I'm not getting involved."

"Thank you, Quinn."

"But what are you going to do on prom night?"

"We haven't really thought about it."

"Oh John, what am I going to do with you two?"

"What?"

"You've got to go somewhere and do something that night."

"Why?"

"Do you really want to just stay home?"

"Daria and I can have a nice, romantic evening here just as well as anywhere else and we don't have to go to a lot of extra effort and expense. It's being together, not where we're at, that's important."

"Need I remind you that Mom and Dad are going to be weird on you all night if you stay here?"

"You've got a point."

"So you'd better think of something, and promise me that it will be something nice."

* * *

Distracted from the tutoring session, Brittany twirled her hair around her finger and said, "Daria, do you have your dress for the prom?"

Daria tightly closed her eyes and massaged them with her fingertips. "I'm not going to the prom."

Without hesitation, Brittany angrily spun and slapped John across the face. "How could you!"

Recoiling from the powerful hit, John said, "Huh?"

Kevin flinched in sympathy. "Man, that had to hurt."

Daria reached over and grabbed Brittany's arm. "Brittany!"

She looked back and said, "I'm so sorry, Daria. Who'd he ask out?"

"Nobody. We decided not to go," Daria explained.

"What?" Brittany said, perplexed. "But, you're on all those posters."

"Those are pictures of us from homecoming. The company that gave us the clothes is sponsoring the prom."

Kevin said, "Dude, you're not going?"

John shook his head.

"But the prom is the best night to score."

John, Daria and Brittany glared at Kevin, who said, "What?"

John said, "Daria and I wanted to something a little more personal."

"Ohh," Brittany said, clearly misinterpreting. "Where are you going?"

"We haven't decided, yet," Daria said.

"John," Kevin said. "It better be good."

John muttered, "Yeah, no pressure."

* * *

Stepping out of a restroom stall, Daria found Sandi, Stacy, and Tiffany waiting. A bit further back, Quinn held up her hands as if saying, "I have nothing to do with this."

Sandi said, "Um, Daria."

"Yes?"

"It's a really big honor for us to be invited to be hostesses for the prom."

"Congratulations."

"We're really excited about it," Stacy said. "And we're, um, confused about why you don't want to go."

Daria leaned back against the stall frame. "Why don't I just get on the intercom and explain to the whole school? It'll save so much time and effort."

With her usual drawl, Tiffany said, "Because Ms. Li won't let you?"

"Good one," Daria admitted. She stood up straight and asked, "Look, why is everyone so interested in whether John and I go to the prom or not?"

"Because, for some reason that escapes me, you're two of the most popular juniors in school and people follow your lead," Sandi said.

"Come on," Daria replied. "Popular?"

Stacy said, "Everybody reads your column and John's cartoons are so funny."

Sandi added, "Plus, you hang out with the other two most popular couples in school; Jodie and Mack and Kevin and Brittany."

Daria sighed. "Look, we're only trying to survive high school. We not trying to set any kind of example and we're not looking for people to follow our lead."

"But they do, so you better get used to it. You have a responsibility," Sandi said.

"In that case," Daria said, beginning to walk past the other girls. "I hope people start making decisions for themselves and not keep imitating us or anyone else."

Sandi watched Daria leave and then asked Quinn, "She doesn't get it, does she?"

"She does," Quinn said. "She just doesn't like it."

* * *

In the _Lawndale Lowdown_ workroom, John looked up when he heard the door open. When he saw who was there, he thought, _What does Ms. Li want now?_

At a computer, Daria stopped typing and rotated her chair to face the door. "Yes, Ms. Li?"

"Ms. Morgendorffer, Mr. Lane. Just the people I wanted to talk to. Rumor has it that you are not planning on attending the prom."

Daria grumbled, "_Et tu_, Ms. Li?"

"Don't try to talk us into going," John said.

"Let's not jump to any conclusions, shall we?" Ms. Li said.

"Okay," Daria said. "Then what do you have on your mind?"

"Star Teen Formalwear is very happy with sales for this year's prom and attributes it to successful advertising."

"With Jodie and Mack on one set of posters and us on the other set," John said, not liking what he figured was coming next.

Ms. Li smiled. "Exactly, Mr. Lane, and despite you and Ms. Morgendorffer's well-known aversion to such things, you haven't complained. For which, I am pleasantly grateful and attribute to your personal growth this year. While most students view the prom with great anticipation and delight, if you choose to forgo such activity, who am I to say otherwise?"

Startled, John said, "Um, thanks for being so understanding."

"That's what makes the difference between an educator and a good educator." Ms. Li turned back and opened the door, saying, "Now please, don't let me delay you any further," before exiting.

"She's up to something," John said.

Daria said, "I think that after the company used our images on the posters, that's her way of saying that she's not expecting us to cause trouble at the prom."

"As tempting as it might be to now plan something, I'll take the out."

"That goes for both of us."

* * *

Taking advantage of the spring warmth, Daria and John sat together on the back yard swing after dinner. Arms around Daria while she rested her head on his shoulder, John said, "You know, going out someplace special this Saturday would be kind of romantic."

Eyes closed, Daria almost purred. "Hmm, yes, it would."

"Any ideas?"

"I don't know."

John got an idea and smiled. "Washington's only about an hour and a half away. How would you like to spend a day at the Smithsonian?"

Daria looked up at him. "I'd like that. I'd like that very much."

"We can spend the day, have dinner and then drive back that night."

"Mom's going to want photos."

"I'll bring the Polaroid to keep her happy." John thought for a moment. "You know, this might be a good time make a pitch for a digital camera"

She gave him a knowing smirk. "And the software to process it. You want a new toy."

"Yeah, and this is a good excuse to get one."

Helen peeked out of the sliding glass door and smiled, thinking of the times she wondered if her daughter would ever be happy. Hoping to help with that, she opened the door and walked over to the swing. When she said, "Hello," both started and moved to slide apart. Helen motioned with her hand and said, "Do you mind sliding over so that I can sit down?"

"Sure, Mom," Daria said, moving to give her room. "What's up?"

"Daria, John, It's very nice to see you happy together."

"Thanks," John said.

"Well, some things you only have one or two opportunities to do."

"Like go to the prom?" Daria said.

"Yes. Please, hear me out."

Both teens nodded.

"The prom might seem silly or a waste of time now, but in later years, it might be a very good memory. But, it won't be if you never give it a try."

"True," Daria said. "But we were just talking about our plans for this Saturday and I think that they will produce better memories."

"Oh?" Helen said.

"I'd like to take Daria down to Washington to spend the day at the Smithsonian. Just the two of us and maybe a nice dinner before heading home. We see our classmates almost every day. Seeing the sights there will be something more."

Helen slowly shook her head. "I should've known you'd have already thought of something and I can't say that you haven't come up with something that I think will make both of you happy."

Daria carefully said, "So, are you okay with our trip?"

A soft smile slowly formed on Helen's face. "Yes, Sweetie, you can go. But take pictures."

"Thanks, Mom."

John winked at Daria and said, "Speaking of pictures"

* * *

As they prepared to leave the newspaper workroom on Friday, Jodie said to Daria, "I'm so jealous. Do you want to trade parents?"

"Not on your life."

Jodie sighed. "I didn't think you would."

"Haven't things gotten easier since your mom started telecommuting? You were hoping the work would keep her busy."

"She has less time to think of new activities, but going back to the business world has fired her up again about breaking the glass ceiling."

"That sounds like my mother."

Jodie chuckled, and then with a hint of deviousness, said "We should get them glass cutters for Mother's Day."

"Jodie, you're making progress," Daria said.

"Thanks. Hey, can you do something for me?"

"Depends on what you ask."

"Just do something silly and fun tomorrow. Something I can try to imagine about while going through the full manicure, pedicure, skin treatment and hair stylist attack."

"Damn, that sounds like something that Quinn would put herself through. Tell you what, I'll think of something, but not too silly."

"You have standards, I understand. Thanks."

* * *

Waiting with Daria, Jake and Helen, John watched Quinn come down the stairs in her prom gown and then execute a perfect pirouette at the bottom. She said, "What do you think?"

"Oh Quinn, you look wonderful," Helen said.

Jake stared for a second and said, "Wow."

John had to admit that Quinn was stunning. In a sense of fairness over the cost of the trip (and John's new camera), Helen had upped Quinn's budget for the dress and when combined with her ability with makeup and accessories, it showed. "Impressive."

They all looked at Daria as she looked Quinn over. After a long silence, she said, "Sis, you've outdone yourself."

It took Quinn another couple of seconds to recognize the lack of sarcasm in Daria's voice. Overjoyed, she said, "Thanks, everybody."

After Quinn went back upstairs, Helen teasingly whispered to Daria, "That was very nice. Are you getting soft in your old age?"

Daria shrugged and said, "She hasn't given me any grief about not going to the prom. I was returning the favor."

"As you wish, sweetie."

"You'd better check on Dad," Daria said. "He looks a little shell-shocked."

Helen turned to see Jake staring at the spot where Quinn had been. "Oh, my."

"I think you need to remind him again that we're growing up and it's okay."

"I'm afraid you're right."

After Helen led Jake to the kitchen, John said, "What was that about?"

"Oh, Mom just being herself."

"Uh-huh. Quinn really looked very nice."

"Do I need to be jealous?"

John put his arm around Daria's waist and kissed her cheek. "She looked nice. You're beautiful."

"Good save."

"I learn."

* * *

While John and Daria ate breakfast in the morning, Helen placed her car keys on the dining table. "You are not driving that unexploded bomb all the way to D.C. Take mine."

"What about you?" Daria asked. "You never know when Eric will call."

Helen said, "Oops, I forgot to charge my cell phone. I don't think I'll hear from him today."

"Gotcha," Daria said, appreciating the sarcasm. "When's Quinn leaving?"

"She's going over to Sandi's at 9:00 so that she can get ready with her friends."

"I see," Daria said, not wanting to think about her parents alone in the house all afternoon and evening.

John said, "You said to try to be back by around 11:00. We can extend that if you want."

"That's fine." Helen then admitted, "You don't need to stay out as long as I did for my prom."

"Oh?" Daria said.

"Never mind," Helen quickly said.

Daria and John smirked at each other, but let the matter drop out of a sense of self-preservation.

"Hey, kids," Jake said as he came into the kitchen. "Are you ready for your big adventure?"

"I think we have it covered," John said.

"They went to Washington when I was in military school, but I got left behind. You know why?"

"Do we really want to?" Daria asked.

"They said I was too much of security risk to go to the Pentagon! But I went back years later and we got them, didn't we honey?"

"Um, yes dear," Helen said. "I don't think Daria and John are going to be interested in a bunch of hippies trying to levitate a building."

John said, "I know it was the sixties, but please, never tell us what you were smoking. Okay?"

By then, Quinn came in and said, "Are Mom and Dad telling stories again?"

"Yes," Daria confirmed.

Quinn went about preparing some cereal and juice for breakfast while she talked. "Okay, then I don't want to know, either."

Helen muttered, "That's probably for the best."

Undeterred, Jake said, "Quinn! Are you ready for your big night?"

"Of course, Daddy. We'll meet at Sandi's at 9:00, manicure and pedicures at 9:45, skin treatments at 11:30, tanning salon at 1:15, hair at 2:30, reconvene at Sandi's for final makeup at 5:00, and the limo will pick us up at 6:45."

John said, "Are you going to the prom or preparing to land at Normandy?"

Quinn playfully rolled her eyes. "John, these things take careful planning. You can't just leave anything to chance."

"I agree," Daria said. "Planning for Normandy was a piece of cake compared to the prom."

Quinn fixed her gaze on John. "And I suppose most of this trip is planned around, 'let's keep it loose.'"

"More or less," he answered.

"Do you at least have a dinner reservation?"

"No."

Quinn slowly shook her head, but smiled. "That is so, you."

John half stood and bowed. "Thanks."

Daria said, "We're going to start at one corner of the National Mall and work around at our own speed. There's no way we can see everything in one day, so we're not going to try. When we get hungry, we'll find someplace to get lunch and when we're done for the evening, then we'll find someplace for dinner. It's the time together that's important."

"You win; just don't stop at a Burger World or something, okay?"

"Deal," Daria said. "We'll find a Cluster Burger."

Quinn dramatically tapped her forehead against the table. "You two are hopeless."

* * *

Daria looked around for someplace to sit and when she didn't see one, chose an empty section of wall to lean against while watching John stare, transfixed, at the _Tyrannosaurus rex_ skeleton on display. When a docent came near, Daria said, "He's in the zone. Communication is impossible."

The kindly gentleman said, "A big dinosaur fan?"

"Artist. He's either picturing some grand work involving a _T. rex_ and the demise of our high school, or he's in awe of its capacity to consume raw meat."

The man patted his rounded stomach and said, "I remember being like that, once."

"It gives me hope that we won't have to feed the black hole inside him forever."

The docent joked, "I never could've put two kids through college if I had to keep paying for the same amount of food I ate as a teenager."

John stirred and said, "Man, that thing could gulp down the entire track team without breaking stride."

Daria said, "Okay, it was both."

"Huh?" John said, coming fully back to reality.

"Nothing."

"Oookay."

"Enjoy the rest of the museum," the docent said as he stepped away.

John asked, "Was I drooling on the floor or something?"

"The pigeons were beginning to wonder if you were new statuary."

"Oops."

* * *

Seated on a bench with his legs stretched out, John gestured with his partially-eaten lunch and said, "Eating a hot dog on the National Mall. There's something definitively American about it."

Seated beside him, Daria said, "Eating food you really don't want to see made in a city whose main product you don't want to see made. I completely agree."

John fished a guidebook from his back pocket and said, "I've seen your dad make Kitchen Sink Stew. I think I can handle a tour of the Capital."

Daria thought for a moment and said, "John, you may have just come up with a way to change politics as we know it."

* * *

Arms folded, John stood back while Daria wrote on a page of his sketchpad with a large marker. "What are you doing?"

"Something I promised Jodie."

"Jodie?"

"Yes, Jodie." Daria capped the marker and said, "Okay, I'm going a few steps up the stairs and I want you to take a picture."

John turned the camera on and said, "As you command."

Daria went halfway up the steps of the Capitol and then turned, displaying the sketchpad page, which read, "Landon for President."

"What in the world?" John asked. "She talked you into being her first campaign worker?"

"She wanted me to do something silly. What could be sillier than me as one?"

John laughed and raised the camera. "I bow to your superior sarcasm." He took the picture and said, "Jodie's going to love it or try to kill you."

* * *

After the waiter placed their plates on the table, Daria looked around the tasteful decor of the restaurant and said, "Real French cuisine. I think that Quinn would approve, even if she's never actually had it."

"Mmm, it sure smells good," John said. "A part of me is curious about how things are going back in Lawndale. What if somebody went crazy and attacked with a battleaxe? We'd miss it."

"This way, we have a good alibi," Daria said.

John reached across the table to hold Daria's hands. "Today's been fun."

She smiled and said, "Yeah, it has."

The wonderful day together made John consider how lucky he was. "I love you."

Daria looked down slightly, then back up to say, "I love you."

"I wish we had more time."

"Me, too."

* * *

After dancing through most of the evening, Quinn joined her friends at a table and eagerly sat down. "Ahh," she said, allowing her feet to rest.

Almost bouncing in her seat, Stacy said, "This is so much fun!"

"I've never danced so much," Tiffany said.

Sandi declared, "This has been a momentous evening."

Quinn said, "Wow, what a night. We're going to remember this forever."

* * *

Moving at only 35 mph on the interstate while heavy rain pounded against the windshield, Daria strained to see through the darkness ahead. "I can't keep this up," she said.

"Let's hit the next exit," John suggested. "And wait for stuff to blow over."

"Okay, but try the radio again and see if we can get a weather report."

"I'm on it." He leaned over and hit the scan button on the radio, skipping past fragments of music and commercials before finally hitting a channel that sounded promising.

An announcer said, "The Highway Patrol has issued a travel advisory for Interstate 95 through 4:00 AM. Heavy rain and road flooding have created dangerous conditions and officials recommend that all but the most essential travel be avoided."

Daria said, "That settles it; I'm pulling off at the next exit."

"Four in the morning? We're going to need to find some hotel rooms unless you want to sleep in the truck."

"Hotel rooms sound good to me, though I'm not looking forward to calling Mom and Dad to explain."

"Or the grilling we're going to get when we make it home."

"If we get two rooms, it should ease their fears a bit."

"Good thinking."

* * *

Looking through the car window at a hotel office, John said, "We might as well both go in now. It's not like we have any luggage or anything."

"Not even a stupid umbrella," Daria grumbled.

"We can use a couple of blank pages from my sketchpad."

"You're on."

Holding the heavy paper over their heads, John and Daria made a dash for the office. They had to run around a minivan containing a family that had pulled into the parking lot and stopped near the entrance. Inside the office, they dropped the only partially effective paper into a trash can and got into line behind two men who were separately registering at the front desk. While Daria and John waited, a harried-looking man, just as rain-soaked as they were, ran in and joined the line behind them.

The men in front took their key-cards. One headed straight for a room and the other went to the door to motion someone inside.

Daria stepped up and asked, "What do you have left?" as she rested her wallet on the counter and removed her mother's credit card.

The tired and harried looking desk clerk said, "Two rooms. One double, non-smoking, and a single king-sized, non-smoking. Everything else is full."

Daria quickly glanced at the man behind them, and then his expectant family waiting in the minivan. Her conscience not letting her take a room away from them, Daria gulped down a lump in her throat and said, "We'll take the single, please."

* * *

Daria closed the room door and said, "Yes, I'm as nervous as I look."

"Me, too," John replied, looking around nervously.

"Good thing that the gift shop was open so that we could get some dry clothes and toothpaste."

"Do you want the bathroom to change?"

She shrugged. "The idea of me changing in the bathroom seems a little too pat. You use it."

"Okay, just let me know when it's safe to come out."

Inside, John swapped his damp clothes for a t-shirt that said, "Washington: Below the Beltway" and a pair of plain shorts. He had time to drape the wet things on the shower curtain rack before Daria knocked and said, "Nothing to see here, now."

Her t-shirt read, "Pentagon price for this shirt: 2.7 million," and though long enough to reach mid-thigh, was slightly on the tight side. John gently ran his fingertips along her shoulder and arm. "I think there's something to see."

Daria gave him one of her soft smiles and said, "You're spoiling me."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, not really."

John gently put his arms around her. "Good, because I wasn't planning to stop."

After enjoying the embrace, she said, "The sooner we call Mom and Dad, the better."

John let her go and nodded. "You're right. Good luck."

Daria sat on the edge of the bed and flexed her fingers before picking up the phone. With, "Here goes," she dialed home and waited.

Helen answered, "Hello?"

"Hi Mom, it's Daria."

"Daria! Are you all right? This weather is horrible."

"We're okay. John and I pulled off of the interstate to wait out the storm."

"Thank goodness. Quinn called and she and her friends are staying at Stacy's house. It's the closest one to the high school."

"That's good."

"But be careful; they expect it to last for most of the night and those rest areas may not be patrolled that well."

"Mom, we, um, used your credit card to get a hotel room."

"Oh, that's good thinking. 'A' hotel room? One?" Helen said, immediately attune to every sound her daughter made.

Daria closed her eyes. "Yes."

"Not that I don't trust you, but why not two rooms? We can afford it."

"It's all that was available. The hotel is booked solid now."

"Oh. They didn't ask about your age?"

"I think the poor clerk was too frazzled. Mom, I know you're worried."

"It comes with the job, sweetie."

In the background, Jake yelled, "Is that Daria and John? Are they okay? Have they been in an accident?"

Helen patiently said to him, "They're safe and staying in a hotel for the night."

"Oh, thank goodness," Jake said.

Daria whispered, "One, two, three"

"A hotel!?" Jake exclaimed.

"Damn," Daria muttered.

"Jake," Helen said. "Let me get the details from Daria and then I'll fill you in." To the phone, she said, "You're father's a little concerned."

"I heard."

"To be honest, I'm a little concerned, too. I know that nothing happened when you went to that concert, but you were in separate rooms. Temptation can be"

"Strong. Trust me, I know. I, uh, really know."

Intent, Helen said, "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Daria held her hand over the phone and looked up at John. He sat next to her and said, "How bad?"

"This may sound weird, but I think we should be completely honest with Mom about what we've done. It's the right thing to do."

Despite the dread in his stomach, John kissed her on the cheek and said, "Okay."

Back to the phone, Daria said, "Mom, do you remember the last time Aunt Amy came to visit?"

"I think I had a hangover for two days."

"Mom, that night John and I went further than we'd ever gone before." Daria tried a joke to lighten the effect, "But, by certain politician's definition, we didn't have sex."

"And why are you telling me this now?" Helen demanded.

"Because you trusted us and deserve to know."

Helen relented, remembering that she never felt able to talk to her mother. "Thank you, Daria. I know that wasn't easy to say."

"We'll try our best to be responsible. Just so you know, I have my pills with me and I'm up to date on them."

"Sweetie, I know you will be. And Daria, from now on, consider anything between you and John private. It's hard enough accepting that my little girl is growing up and I don't think I'll ever want to know details."

"Thanks, Mom. What about Dad?"

"Let me worry about that. Good night, Daria. Drive safe tomorrow."

"We will."

Daria hung up the telephone and said, "That went better than I expected. We now have, 'Don't ask, don't tell.'"

* * *

John woke in the morning feeling Daria's soft skin pressed against his back and her arm around his chest. He slowly and carefully rolled to face her. Several locks of auburn hair fell across her peaceful-looking face. "Good morning."

Her deep brown eyes blinked twice before staying open. "Good morning to you, too."

John slipped his hand over Daria's waist and gave her a kiss. "As much as I hate to say it, we should probably get going."

"Let's wait a few more minutes. I like how this feels."

"Mmm, I can't complain."

Daria kissed him and said, "Things seem different, now."

"A good kind of different."

"A good kind."

Daria moved her other arm around John and pulled him close. "Thank you for your promise last night."

John held on to her just as tightly. "I look forward to keeping it."

* * *

Daria said, "We're home," as she and John came inside.

"And all in one piece," John added.

Helen almost ran out of the kitchen. "Welcome home, dears," she said and reached out to hug Daria and John.

Surprised, they took a moment to return the favor. Daria said, "Mom?"

"Sorry Daria, just getting a little emotional."

She said, "That's okay."

"You're good kids."

John said, "Thanks, we, um, try."

"Can we go upstairs and change?" Daria asked. "It's been a long trip."

"Oh, oh, yes, go ahead," Helen said, letting them go.

Quinn was waiting for them upstairs. "It's about time you got home," she said, giving a very good imitation of her mother.

Daria said, "Quinn, we're tired and we want to change. Can it wait?"

Quinn pushed John toward his room and directed Daria toward hers. "John, go change; Daria and I need to talk."

"Quinn," Daria warned.

"Look, Sandi saw that Mom's car was gone when she dropped me off this morning. By lunch time, everyone at school is going to know that you two didn't come home last night."

"We were stuck in the storm like everyone else. I understand you stayed at Stacy's."

"Yeah, at Stacy's with three other girls." She looked at John about to comment and said, "Don't even go there, you know what I mean."

John took Daria's hand and said, "Okay, no jokes. But look, if everyone knows we stayed out, they're already going to assume stuff. There's not a damn thing we can do about it."

"But people look up to you!" Quinn said.

"Then they'll have to remember that people on pedestals are still human," Daria said. "And anything we did last night, we did out of love."

Quinn stepped back. "You're the only two that can pull that off. Okay. Now, just tell me that yesterday was special for you."

Daria and John looked into each other's eyes. "Yes."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.

July-September 2008


	37. Chrysalis

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the thirty-seventh John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Chrysalis**

John cuddled against Daria and kissed the back of her bare shoulder. "I love you," he gently whispered.

Relaxing in his arms, she whispered back, "I love you."

A loud, irritating buzz came from John's alarm clock. "Dammit," he grumbled, waking up alone in his bed.

After he slapped the alarm clock to shut off the buzzer, the radio kicked on, blaring music into the room. "Ngh." He rolled over and said, "A few more minutes."

Violent shaking, followed by, "Wake up," brought John back to consciousness. He was very pleased to open his eyes and find Daria leaning over him.

"Hey," he said.

Daria said, "If you don't bust your ass getting ready, we'll be late for school."

John flopped onto his back. "Wanted to finish a dream."

"That must've been some dream," Daria said with a smirk. "I'll be downstairs."

"Yeah, okay," he said.

After Daria left, he forced his eyes all the way open. Looking down, he realized what precipitated Daria's comment about his dream. "Oh, boy."

* * *

As he and Daria prepared to leave for school, John said, "Bye. See you tonight."

"Have a good day," Helen said, waving at them.

Hiding behind the newspaper, Jake only grunted and slurped some coffee.

John closed the front door of the house and said, "Your dad is still unhappy about us."

Daria sighed as she walked alongside John. "One of the prices of honesty. I'm still one of his little girls."

"And I'm back to being an intruder."

"We did the right thing. We couldn't have kept up a lie about what happened on our trip to the Smithsonian and things would've been worse then."

"You're right, it's just that I'd gotten used to, well, having a father around."

"Give Dad some time to accept that I'm not a little girl any more. It can't be easy for him," Daria said as she walked around the car to the passenger side.

John opened the driver's door and said, "I suppose it could be worse. He could have a shotgun."

"From what I heard, that's how Grandpa handled things."

* * *

Jodie caught up with them at Lawndale High as they walked down a corridor to their first class. "Hey guys, how did your trip go?"

"We had a great time," John said.

Daria stopped and said, "Hold on, I have something for you." She took her backpack off and took a folder from within, giving it to Jodie.

"What's this?"

"What you asked for. Me doing something silly."

Inside the folder was a printed image of Daria on the steps of the U.S. Capital, holding a handmade sign that said, "Landon for President."

Jodie laughed and said, "I better not let my parents see this or they'll start putting money into a campaign fund."

"Good one," Daria said with a light laugh.

"I can see them doing that," John said.

"That's why they'll never see this. If they think I can convince Daria to work for a campaign, they'll never let up."

Mack joined them. "Morning, everyone. Hey, how was your trip?"

"We had a great time," John said. "The Smithsonian was awesome."

"Did you have to drive back in that bad storm?"

Daria and John looked at each other for a moment. When the length of the silence became uncomfortable, Daria said, "We had to stop at a hotel."

Jodie caught the vibe and said, "We'd better get to class. Maybe we can talk about it later." She tugged on Mack's arm and led him away.

John let out his breath. "One way or another, this is going to get out. You remember what Quinn told us about Sandi finding out we didn't get home Saturday night?"

"I know. That doesn't mean I'm looking forward to it."

* * *

During lunch, Jodie and Daria sat on the lawn away from other students. Jodie graciously let them finish their meal before saying, "So you stayed in a hotel. That long gaze into each other's eyes tells me that there's more to the story."

"A lot more. I'm sure you've heard the rumors, too."

"The rumor mill does work fast around here. Look, you and John are a good couple. It's not unreasonable to think you'd, um, be intimate. It's the nineties."

"Just for the record, the hotel didn't rent rooms by the hour, the police didn't raid the building, and I don't own a pair of thigh high boots."

Jodie laughed. "You realize that guys are mentally picturing you wearing them, right?"

Daria dropped her head to the ground. "Dammit."

"Things will die down soon enough; you just have to weather a short storm."

Daria lifted her head and asked, "What about you and Mack?"

Jodie nervously looked around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. "Um…"

"Never mind."

* * *

Daria and John were waiting in the small side room of the library when Kevin and Brittany came in for their daily tutoring session. Kevin slapped John on the back and said, "Dude, didn't I tell you prom night was the best night to score?"

Brittany sat down next to Daria and squealed, "Now we have so much more to talk about!"

Uncomfortable, Daria said, "Um, yeah. But not today."

John motioned for Kevin to sit down. "Ms. Li isn't letting us out of class to talk about…other stuff."

"Oh, yeah," Kevin said, sitting down. "We're doing biology today, right?"

Daria glumly opened the textbook. "Much to my deep regret, yes."

"Great!" Brittany said. "Then we have plenty to talk about."

"We're not covering the reproductive system," John said.

Kevin said, "Aw man, that's my favorite part."

"I never would've guessed," Daria said. "Today, we're covering animal mimicry."

"What's that?" Brittany asked.

"Species that have evolved to look a lot like another."

"Then how can you tell them apart?" Kevin then had, for him, a brilliant idea. "I know; they're a trick question!"

"Close," Daria said. "The example in the book is the Viceroy Butterfly and how it looks like the Monarch."

_Butterflies. Why did it have to be butterflies_? That thought made John remember that his mother had wanted him to stay at the Ashfield Art Colony again this summer. _Damn, I really don't want to spend the entire summer away from Daria._

* * *

Seeing her father's car in the driveway caused Daria to groan as she pulled in behind it. "Three guesses about why he's home early."

"And the first two don't count, right?" John said, slumping back in the seat.

"You know, we better not run late any this week."

"You're right. Look, do you mind if I go for a run? It's a good bet that keeping a little distance between us would be a good idea."

"Hopefully I can talk him down a little before you get back."

"Thanks."

"But you owe me."

"Big time, I know."

Jake was waiting inside on the sofa. He managed to force a smile and say, "Hey kids, how was your day?"

"A typical Monday at Sunny Lawndale High," Daria said.

"That's great. You kids want to watch some TV?"

John said, "I was going to go for a run. Raincheck?"

"Um, okay," Jake said, not expecting that answer.

"I have some homework," Daria said, "But I can put that off for a while."

"Sure thing, Kiddo."

"Give us a minute," Daria said.

After they reached the top of the stairs, John said, "Yep, we're going to have to start all over at getting his trust back."

"You have to admit that we did what they were worried about us doing. We broke their trust."

"Do you regret…?"

"No," Daria emphatically said. "But they're having an honest reaction and we have to…have to take responsibility for our actions."

"Um, I can skip that run," John said, "If you think it will help."

"Go on. I'll probably make more progress with Dad by myself."

"Good luck."

"I'll need it."

* * *

After John left, Daria went to the sofa, where Jake had just sat back down with a bowl. He said, "Popcorn?"

Daria joined him and said, "Sure. So, what's on?"

"What do you usually watch?"

"_Sick, Sad World._"

"Um, okay, Kiddo."

"It's not that bad," Daria said, picking up the remote and changing channels.

The TV flickered and then showed a grizzled man wearing overalls and holding a shotgun. "Lemme tell ya, soon as I catch that gray skinned freak, we's gonna have us a weddin' quick like and he's gonna do right by my lil' Myra Jean."

Daria covered her face. "Sometimes, it is that bad."

* * *

John trotted around the corner from Axl's to the alley leading to Trent's apartment. "What the…?" he said upon seeing a black sports car parked there. "I thought they were through for good."

John stopped at the door and listened carefully. "Good, no sounds of anything going on." He knocked and waited. _Please be dressed. Please be dressed._

Inside, a puppy barked. After a few moments, Trent opened the door and stuck one foot to the side to keep Axl's future "guard" dog Damien from getting out. "Hey Johnny, what's up?"

"Out for a run."

Monique came up and said, "Hey there, is Daria with you?"

_Thank God they're both dressed._

"Hey. Nah, she's at home defusing her dad."

"Defusing? What happened?"

John felt a blush and he stammered, "Well, on our way back last weekend, we had to stop at a hotel because the rain was so bad and, um…"

"I think we got it," Monique said. She elbowed Trent and said, "You didn't fall asleep on her, did you?"

"No, no," John said.

Trent turned to Monique and said, "You were comfortable."

"Which reminds me," John said. "Are you two?"

Trent laughed and coughed. "Nah."

"I've had it with the Harpies. I stopped by to see if I could sing with Spiral for a few gigs." When Monique saw John's concerned look at Trent, she added, "And he promised not to play that song."

"Ooh, he can learn."

"Hey," Trent said.

Monique stepped past the brothers and said, "I think I'll let you two talk."

"Um, thanks," John said.

"See you later, Monique," Trent said.

"Later," she said, going to her car.

Trent let John into the small apartment and closed the door. Damien bounced around John's running shoes and tugged at the laces when he had the chance.

Trent said, "So…"

"I think we screwed up," John said. "Jake and Helen are back to watching us like hawks. Jake was even waiting for us when we got home today."

Trent effortlessly dropped onto a beanbag chair and said, "If you were really in trouble, Helen would've been waiting for you."

* * *

Daria tried to explain, "We've tried to be honest with you and Mom."

Jake weakly smiled. "You have, Daria. But…"

When the doorbell rang, Jake took the opportunity to distract himself from the uncomfortable conversation. Just as he opened the door, he automatically yelled up the stairs, "Quinn, your date is…" He stopped when he saw who was there and said in a normal voice, "Oh, hi Monique."

Monique snickered at Jake's mistake. "Hey, is Daria here?" she asked.

"Yeah." Jake then half-turned and called, "Sorry Quinn, false alarm!"

"What are you doing here?" Daria said as she came over.

"Johnny stopped by to see Trent."

"You were at Trent's?"

"Not like that."

Jake said, "Huh?"

"Never mind, Dad," Daria said.

Monique said, "I was heading out for some triple chocolate cherry fudge ice cream. Want to come along?"

"Why not? Dad, think we can pick up where we left off later?"

"Oh, uh, sure," he said.

"I shouldn't be too long."

"I'll be here."

Daria followed Monique to her car and when they got in, asked, "Did John, uh, say anything?"

"You mean about you two spending the night in a hotel on the way back Saturday? I left him and Trent to talk it over among themselves and figured you might want a friendly ear yourself."

"John and Trent talking it over?"

"Well, John talking and Trent snoozing. But Damien makes a good listener."

* * *

Sitting on the old couch in Trent's apartment, John scratched behind Damien's ears and said, "I'm sure you didn't understand a word that I said, but thanks for listening."

The dog barked and licked John's face.

The sound caused Trent to wake up and say, "Not the whipped cream."

"Brother of mine," John said, cringing, "That was way too much information, whatever it was."

"Oh, hey. Um, what are you doing here?"

"I had a nice long conversation with the dog."

"He's good at that."

"Yeah," John said. "So, do you have any more nuggets of wisdom for me?"

"Don't use me as an example?"

* * *

Monique twirled her spoon in the half-finished dish of ice cream. "I could learn from you about stable relationships. Trent and I were the most stable gig I've ever had and you know how messed up that was."

Daria rested her spoon on the edge of the dish. "I keep feeling that things have changed."

"They have. But, damn I'm sorry, I don't have much more that I can say beyond what you've figured out."

"Dammit. Is everybody this clueless?"

"Just about. Either you two will grow with new closeness, or things will go downhill until it's all about the sex. If I could figure out how to predict which way things go, I'd write a book and make a fortune on the talk show circuit."

"We should probably head back. I don't think it's safe yet for John to be home alone with my folks."

"Yeah, it sounds like you still want to keep him around."

"And with all parts still attached."

Monique laughed at the blush that grew on Daria's cheeks as she realized how her comment could be taken.

* * *

Several days later over dinner, Helen said, "Daria, John, I would prefer if you stayed home this evening. I wasn't comfortable coming home to find both of you gone."

"Mom, that was Monday," Daria said. "We've been home every day since. Dad can vouch for that, though I think the strain of watching us without going over the top is getting to him."

"Besides, we weren't even at the same place. I think Mystik Spiral's still traumatized by your questioning."

"What makes you say that?" Helen asked.

"Max said he was giving up on his criminale lifestyle."

"You're still staying home."

Quinn said, "Mom, I really think you should let them go out. The Fashion Club's Blush-A-Thon is tonight."

Jake loudly said, "Blush-A-Thon? No daughter of mine is going to embarrass herself for her friends!"

"Da-ad! Blush as in makeup. We're evaluating the summer line of colors."

"Makeup? You girls got in a fight?"

Helen patted Jake's hand. "No, dear. Quinn's talking about cosmetics."

"Oh. Um, okay. I'll go back to my paper," Jake said and quickly ducked behind the front page.

Daria sank down in her chair. "Blush-A-Thon? John, is it too late for mutual suicide?"

"Well, I was hoping to make it past graduation before that," John said.

Helen rolled her eyes at John and Daria's remarks and said, "Quinn, why don't you invite Daria to join you and your friends?"

Quinn and Daria said in unison, "You've got to be kidding."

* * *

Seated with the other Fashion Club members on the living room sofas, Sandi said, "Quinn, why is your sister with us?"

"Mom thought it was a good idea," Quinn said. "And if she didn't get to join us, Mom wouldn't let us meet here tonight."

Sandi said. "My mother's hosting the Tri-County Broadcast Women's Round Table tonight, so we can't go to my place. Stacy?"

"Um, Mom and Dad said something about 'date night.'"

"Ugh. Tiffany?"

"Dad's fantasy baseball."

Sandi sighed. "Okay, it looks like we have no viable alternative. Daria can stay."

Bored, Daria said, "Thank you so very much."

In contrast, Stacy became excited and said, "You know, guys, with Daria here, we have a whole other complexion to include and we can make even better decisions!"

"We can even ask that John guy about how things look," Tiffany said. "We are trying to look good for guys."

Daria looked up the stairs, smirked for the first time since joining the other girls and said, "That can be arranged."

* * *

John said, "You've got to be kidding."

Snippy, Daria said, "Why should you get an easy out?"

"You're inviting me to step into a minefield of saying whether other girls look good or not."

"We'll tiptoe through the minefield together."

"I can't see you ever tiptoeing in those boots."

Firm, Daria said, "John, I'm not staying down there alone, outnumbered four to one."

"So you want me to be outnumbered five to one?"

"They haven't asked about the two of us…yet."

"I can see that the alternative is worse. I'll help."

* * *

Seated on the floor with the girls of the Fashion Club, Daria halted Sandi's hand, took the makeup brush and said, "I can do that myself."

With the others watching, Daria hesitantly applied the blush to her cheeks. Though her technique was slow and rusty, it was immediately clear that Daria knew what she was doing.

Tiffany said, "We thought you didn't know how to apply makeup."

"Just because I don't do something doesn't mean that I'm not aware of how to do it," Daria said.

Stacy glanced at John and said, "I get it."

"Don't blame me," he said.

Hearing the conversation, Helen came over and said, "Daria helped with makeup at a little theater when we lived in Highland. I was told that she was very good."

"Oh yeah, I remember that now," Quinn said. "You did makeup?"

"Yes, I did makeup," Daria admitted.

"You participated in another extracurricular activity?" John said, remembering that she had mentioned working with the school paper there and then trying to figure out the story behind this new information.

"I was young and foolish," Daria said.

Sandi said, "It doesn't matter, though I don't understand why you don't wear makeup."

"I don't feel the need."

"If you say so."

One at a time, the other girls tried the same blush. While the Fashion Club members discussed the color, John moved close to Daria and said, "Okay, there's a story behind there somewhere."

"Later," Daria said.

"John," Stacy said. "What do you think?"

"About what?"

"How this blush looks on us?"

"Oh, um…it looks like you're blushing?"

Stacy wrote on her notepad while saying, "Seaside Sunset: too intense."

"Very well," Sandi said. "Our next shade is Bordeaux Blossom."

* * *

An hour later, Helen answered the telephone, carried it over to the living room and said, "I'm sorry to interrupt. John, it's Amanda."

"I better get it," he said, rising and taking the phone from Helen. "Hi, Mom."

Sandi watched and then said, "So his mother really does exist."

"Mothers are usually necessary for that whole birth thing everyone goes through," Daria said.

John stepped away and said, "What's up?"

Amanda said, "Good news. You and Daria have been approved for the summer program up here at Ashfield."

"That's great!" John said, excited. Immediately after, he thought of the obvious complication. "Oh crap."

"What's wrong?"

"Things have gotten a little complicated, Mom."

"You didn't break up, did you?"

"No, far from it."

"Then what's wrong?"

"It's complicated."

"Didn't you already say that?"

John desperately looked around for a place to talk privately and found that he was blocked in by the Fashion Club in the living room and by Daria's parents in the kitchen. He gave up and whispered, "Can I just say that we've gotten closer?"

"That's good. What's the problem?"

"Um...I'll explain when I get there…I hope."

"Okay. I look forward to seeing both of you."

"Okay Mom, good bye."

"Good bye."

John held the phone and looked back and forth between Daria and Helen. Deciding, he went to Daria and said, "We need to talk to your parents about something."

Glad for a reason to escape, Daria stood up and said, "Excuse me."

She whispered to John, "What's going on?"

"Mom said we've both been accepted to Ashfield."

"Oh," Daria said, her voice faintly showing her concern with her parents.

John ushered Daria into the kitchen and said, "Do you remember both of us registering for the regular two month session at Ashfield this summer?"

"Oh dear," Helen said.

Daria said, "Mom, you said that if we were accepted, we could both go."

"I did," she admitted.

"We're still the same people," John said.

Jake didn't look too happy. "You said Ashfield was like a commune."

"Yes," John said, "But the dorms are not coed. Besides, I'll probably stay in my parent's cabin again. There's not room for both of us there."

Helen moved over next to Jake. "John, you know things have changed since we agreed."

John instinctively moved next to Daria. "I know."

* * *

"They'll freaking think about it," Daria angrily said as she and John walked down the corridor of school the next day.

"Dammit," John said. "I thought when they made sure we were prepared that they would react better."

"Never expect logic out of parents."

Ignoring Daria, one of the old track team members came up to John and slapped him on the back. "Way to go, dude! If you can get into the pants of an icebox like Daria, you rock."

John brushed the guy's arm away and said, "If you ever learn to treat a girl like a person instead of a piece of ass, you might actually get to talk to one sometime."

"That ain't cool."

Kicking her boot against the floor tile, Daria said, "Next time, try to be aware of when the 'icebox' is present."

"Eep! Gotta go, gonna be late," the guy said as he made a very rapid exit.

"I'm so glad school is almost over for the year and everyone will have the summer rumors to think about when we return," Daria said.

John stopped. "Back to our summer plans. We can't just let this go. We have to fight for it."

"Do you have anything in mind?"

"Give me until after school."

* * *

Daria stopped the car in front of the office of Vitale, Horowitz, Riordan, Schrecter, Schrecter, and Schrecter. She said, "Are you sure you want to go in?"

John said, "I feel safer talking to your mother than to Jake."

"You have a point there. I'll have a better chance of peeling Dad off the ceiling than you will."

John leaned over and softly kissed Daria. "Good luck."

"You, too."

John climbed out of the car and allowed Daria to drive away before she'd backed up traffic. He watched the front door for a minute or so before finally risking going inside. Trying to be as polite as possible, he went up to Helen's assistant. "Hi Marianne, I need to talk to Mrs. Morgendorffer."

The nervous blonde said, "I'm afraid she's really busy today, John."

From within the office, they could hear Helen yell, "Where in the hell is that P.I.'s report!"

"I'm willing to risk it," John said.

Marianne stood up and said, "This must be important," before leading John to her boss's office. "Helen?"

She spun and said, "I said no interruptions!"

Marianne moved aside to let Helen see John. "He said he's willing to take a chance."

"Excuse us, Marianne," Helen said.

Marianne let John into the office, closed the door and went straight to her desk, glad to get away from whatever was brewing.

"I suppose it's no guess what I want to talk about," John said.

Helen sat down behind her desk and motioned for John to sit. "Your plans for this summer."

"Our plans."

"Okay, your and Daria's plans."

"You were excited about us going. There's a lot for us to learn and it's going to look good on our college admissions."

"That's very true, but you're evading the subject that changed things."

"Because it shouldn't change things."

Helen got up, walked around her desk and sat against the edge. "John, it does. Not just between the two of you and us, but between you and Daria. You and she are now at a stage where many relationships fall apart. I love both of you as my children and I don't want that to happen while you're away."

"Um, we really don't…"

"I know you don't intend for anything to go wrong, but things like that you can't plan. I'd feel better if you were at home if something happened. Then, maybe, we could help you through it."

John was shaken by Helen's plainly stated concern. "I…"

"Jake and I don't want either of you to be hurt. You're so young to be in such an intimate relationship, and I don't just mean sex. Except for the fact you stay in separate rooms, you two are as close to being married as you can get without a ring. You may not believe me, but we want you to make it."

John sat back, trying to find something to say against such logic. After a long pause, he could think of only one thing. _I don't believe I'm going to say this._ "My mother used to say something that fits here, 'If you hold a butterfly in your hand, it will die. You have to let it go.' No matter how much you want to protect us, sometime, you will have to let us go and see if we can make it or not. Daria and I want more than anything to make things work, but if not, isn't it better to know sooner than later?"

Helen slowly closed her eyes and lowered her head. "John, have you and Daria ever really discussed if you would like to have children some day?"

"Not really. We've been more concerned about avoiding that in the foreseeable future."

"If you do, you'll want them to stay your little darlings for as long as possible."

"I won't be taking her completely away from you. I could never do that."

Helen fought back tears. "No, but she's no longer my little darling."

John then understood. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's something every parent has to go through." Helen grabbed a tissue and wiped her eyes. "I'll talk to Jake. Both of you can go."

* * *

Seated in her father's office, Daria said, "We didn't want to lie to you."

Slumped in his chair, Jake said, "I would've been scared to death to tell my father."

"You're much better than that, Dad. That's why we felt we could tell you the truth."

Jake nodded, but still seemed to be mentally far away.

"Dad?"

"Huh?" he said, coming out of his momentary trance.

"I want to tell you the truth about something else."

"What's that!" he said, alarmed.

"I'm still your little girl."

"You are?"

"I love John. Though I never expected to find someone, I did. But that doesn't change the fact that you're my father and I'm your little girl. Nothing can change that."

Jake broke into a great smile and dove across the desk to hug Daria. "Kiddo."

Daria accepted the gesture and returned it. "And you can always call me that."

Jake let go and clumsily crawled back to his chair, pushing papers off of his desk in the process. "Let me talk to your mother."

"Thanks, Dad. Oh, and you might want to pick up those papers from the floor."

He looked down at the mess and said, "Dammit!"

Daria smiled at her father and shook her head.

* * *

John gratefully flopped back against the rack of empty lockers and said, "We're free, last day of school is over."

"One more year shot to hell," Daria said with a tiny bit of cheer.

"And this weekend, off to Ashfield."

Daria joined him in leaning against the lockers. "Two months of writing and working with other writers."

"This is going to be great."

Standing in front of them, Mack said, "I am so jealous of you."

"You're jealous?" Jodie said. "I'll trade you working in Congressman Sack's office for driving the ice cream truck."

"I think I'll stay with the more mature audience."

"Coward."

Quinn ran up to them, quickly looked around to see if anyone was looking and then hugged Daria. "Thank you!"

Shocked, Daria said, "Um…you're welcome?"

"I got a 1090 on my PSTAT!" Quinn said.

Pleased, Daria said, "Congratulations, I knew you could do it."

"Yeah, congrats, Quinn," John said.

When Jodie and Mack joined in, Quinn said, "But you need to keep it quiet, okay guys?"

"Quiet?" Jodie asked.

Daria said, "Quinn has a reputation to uphold. Your secret's safe."

"Thanks; see you later," Quinn said as she rushed away.

"Very strange," Jodie said.

John chuckled and said, "That's Quinn."

"Dang it," Jodie said. "I just realized you're going to miss our Fourth of July party."

"My party allotment is still full, but thanks," Daria said.

"Anyway, take care of yourselves and I guess we'll see you in the fall."

"You, too," Daria said. "Um, just to let you know, you're not so bad to work for."

"Thanks. Oh, that reminds me of something."

John said, "I don't like the sound of that."

"Daria, I recommended that you be the editor of the _Lawndale Lowdown_ next year."

"You didn't."

Mack couldn't hold back and burst out laughing. Daria looked at him, realized what was going on and said to Jodie, "Okay, you got me."

"Finally," she said, joining in the laughter.

Daria smirked and said, "You need to let that out more, Jodie. Trust me, you'll feel better."

"I think I'll work on that."

* * *

"You're not coming with us," Daria said, scooting Zachary out of her suitcase before she put the last couple of items in and closed it. Looking up at her sister standing by the closet, she said, "You better start thinking fast, Quinn, or Mom's going to find some 'useful' activity for you again."

Quinn replied, "Working with her public relations lady last year wasn't so bad."

"But she's gone, remember?"

"Oh, yeah."

"And do you really want to work for Eric's cousin?"

"Eww, no."

"Then you better find something."

Quinn squeezed between Taylor and Daria's suitcase to sit on the bed. "It's going to be weird being alone around here."

"I wasn't aware Mom and Dad were going anywhere."

"You know what I mean. I'm going to be alone here with them."

"Think of it this way," Daria said. "You'll have practice for when John and I go away for college."

"Thanks, like I really needed to start worrying about that."

"And then a year later, you'll be going off to college."

Quinn stared at her sister. "When did we start growing up?"

In an honest tone, Daria said, "I don't know."

John came into the room, set his suitcase on the floor and took some money from his pocket. "Quinn, thanks for watching over my owners while Daria and I are gone."

Quinn scratched Taylor's head before taking the money. Counting it, she said, "Oh, it's no trouble at all."

John bent over to look his cats in the face. "We'll be back in two months; don't worry."

Taylor purred and leaned against Quinn while Zachary half-rolled and closed his eyes to take a nap.

Looking past John, Daria said, "I think they'll survive just fine."

"Are you ready?" he asked Daria.

"Raring," she said, grabbing her suitcase.

"Your parents are hovering around downstairs. You'd think we were going away for good or something."

"A little separation anxiety, I'd guess."

* * *

Getting into their old blue car, John said, "Don't worry, Daria insisted on doing the navigating. We're not going to get lost."

Standing next to the car with Jake, Helen said, "Make sure you call us as soon as you get there."

"We promise, Mom," Daria said as she settled into the passenger seat with a map book.

"Be careful, there's lots of crazy drivers on the road!" Jake said.

"We'll be careful," John said while managing to avoid making any comments about Jake's driving.

John started the car and said through the open window. "We'll never make it if we don't leave. Take care, everyone."

Daria waved and said, "Good bye."

Jake put his arm around Helen and said, "Bye, kids."

"Good bye," Helen said.

Standing to the side, Quinn waved and said, "Have fun you two!"

Quinn watched her parents after Daria and John drove away. "Mom, Dad, they're going to be fine."

Helen pulled Quinn over to her and Jake and into a hug. "We know. We know."

* * *

Driving through rolling hills in southern Pennsylvania, Daria said, "If this summer turns into a disaster, I'm blaming you."

"I see; it's all my fault."

"That's right. If it wasn't for meeting you, I wouldn't be on this trip."

"Hey, don't blame me for that. I'm not the one that moved to Lawndale, remember? You dropped into my life and turned it upside down."

"Then I've served my purpose."

"Seriously though," John said. "It's been almost two years since I've lived with my parents. I hope this doesn't turn into a disaster. Please try to be patient with them. They were never mean, just…careless."

Daria reached over with her right hand and held John's. "You're a survivor; you'll make it."

"With you, maybe I will."

"You better."

John pointed at the wooden sign over a side road. "That's it."

"I see," Daria said, turning off the road and into the driveway for the Ashfield Art's Colony. "We made it."

"Mom and Dad's place is to the right and the fourth cabin down."

Daria followed the directions and parked. Stiff, she got out and stretched. "I don't want to sit down again for at least another hour."

Amanda came out of the cabin and rushed to John. "John! Welcome back!"

John hugged her and said, "Hi, Mom."

Amanda immediately released John and hugged Daria. "I'm so glad to see you!"

"Um, same here," Daria managed to say.

"Where's Dad?" John asked.

Amanda said, "He'll be back in a couple days."

"Are you sure?" John asked, disappointed.

"Pretty sure," Amanda said. She looked her son over and said, "My, how you're growing. You've changed so much since last year. My little butterfly is all grown up."

John put his arm around Daria and said, "Yeah Mom, I think we have."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

October-November 2008


	38. Yeah, It's Summer

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the thirty-eighth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Yeah, It's Summer**

In a cabin at Ashfield Community for the Arts, Daria sat on her bed and looked around. She said to herself, "It's an improvement over Camp Grizzly: there's electricity and we have our own bathroom instead of a communal building."

"What was that?" one of her new roommates, Anais, said.

"Thinking out loud."

One of the other girls in the cabin, Paris, said, "Yeah, I do that too."

Reading a pamphlet, Caroline said, "I think it's so cool that they have Daniel Dotson as a speaker this year. His work is so…brilliant."

The final occupant of the cabin, Jett, said, "I hear that he'll have _Paper Plate Genocide_ on display in one of his lectures."

"Awesome," Anais said.

Caroline said, "He is such a genius."

"Sounds impressive," Daria said. "What kind of art does he do?"

Surprised, Jett asked, "You don't know?"

"My boyfriend might have mentioned him, but I'm a writer, not an artist."

"Oh, yeah," Jett said.

Anais explained, "He's a postmodern multimedia sculptor."

"Okay," Daria said, thinking that she would need a translation from John later.

Hearing a knock at the door, Jett got up, saying, "I'll get it."

When she opened the door, John said, "Hey, is Daria here?"

"Yeah, come in." Jett stepped aside and said, "Daria, your guy is here."

"This is John," Daria said, rising to greet him.

The other girls in the cabin gave various greetings and John waved at them. "Hi."

"Do you have a brother?" Caroline asked.

"Um, two."

Paris asked, "Available?"

John scratched his ear. "According to Mom, Wind finally has all of his divorces finalized."

"Pass," Anais said.

Jett said, "What about the other one?"

"He's about as available as a slacker musician can be."

"Musician?" Caroline said. "I am so over musicians and their creative egos."

"Tell me about it," Jett said, shaking her head.

"On that thought," John said, "We'll take our leave."

Once outside, Daria gave him a quick kiss and said, "Thanks for rescuing me from attempting further conversation."

"You're not stuck with the art colony equivalent of the Fashion Club, are you?"

"No, but…we definitely don't have the same interests. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm the only person in the writing program."

"I'm sure you'll find out tomorrow when we go to our first classes."

"I guess. Oh, have you heard about this Daniel Dotson?"

John shrugged. "I've read about him in some magazines. Not my cup of tea, but if he can get stuff in the big New York galleries, there must be something I can learn from him."

Daria gave him a look. "You know, I can teach you bribery."

* * *

Seated on one of the sofas, Quinn talked on the phone. "Sandi, they're only going to be gone for two months."

She listened and shook her head. "No, Sandi, it still takes nine months. Not even a brain can speed that up. So, forget what you heard about Daria; that's not the reason she's out of town."

Quinn listened again and then said, "They're off someplace to do their writing and drawing things with others like them. Yeah, I know, but hey, it keeps them out of trouble. Anyway, what do you think about the new line of tops from _Tres Chic_?"

Helen walked over from the kitchen and stood next to the sofa, waiting for Quinn to notice.

Going back to scanning an array of _Waif_ magazines on the coffee table and cross checking with carefully written notes in a small notebook, Quinn said, "Sandi, I so agree, and the designer name is so dreamy."

Tapping her foot impatiently, Helen stood over her daughter and said, "Quinn, a moment please."

"Hold on," Quinn said and then held her hand over the phone so that Sandi couldn't hear. "Can you make it quick? We're planning our 'Bringing in Summer' shopping trip."

"You are not going to spend the summer shopping."

Quinn sighed and said, "Okay, Mom, what's the deal this year?"

"I'm glad you're being reasonable. Mr. O'Neill called up looking for volunteers for his summer camp and I signed you up."

"Mo-om! You didn't. Mr. O'Neill?"

"Quinn, with all of your babysitting experience, I figured you would be a good fit."

"'What about working in your office again?"

"We already have a PR intern," Helen said, and then muttered, "Thank God."

"But…Mr. O'Neill? All summer? What did I do that was so wrong?"

"If you'd found a constructive activity on your own, I wouldn't have to find one for you."

"Think of the damage to my reputation!"

"I'm more than confident it will survive. Quinn, I don't have time to debate. You're working at Mr. O'Neill's camp and that's final."

The tone of Helen's voice told Quinn to acquiesce. "Fine, when do I start?"

"Tomorrow."

"But that's when I'm going shopping with the Fashion Club."

"Then I'd say the timing was perfect. You'll have to reschedule your shopping trip."

"Mom, what am I going to tell my friends?"

"That you have another commitment."

Quinn gave in and uncovered the phone. "Sandi, I'm sorry, but I can't make it. I have…other plans."

* * *

Walking hand in hand with John, Daria said, "It never fails. Even in a new environment, I get to be the odd one."

"Like there's a problem with odd?"

"Not really, but from a writer's perspective, I should experience the alternative at least once in my life so I have a good frame of reference."

"Is that really necessary? You don't have a problem writing about secret agents gunning down commies even though you've never directly experienced it."

"Who says I haven't?"

"Note to self, don't piss off your girlfriend."

"Besides, you have the advantage of a room to yourself instead of a cabin."

"A room way too close to my parents, with Dad expected home soon. Let's just say that they're as loud as your parents, only the sounds are stranger."

"With that sharing violation, we can safely conclude that life continues to conspire against us. There are times when I think we should jump straight to lifelong paranoia and get it over with."

"Optimist."

Daria gave him a faux angry glare. "I don't know if I should let you talk to me like that."

Yelling, "John!", a shapely, black-haired young woman ran up and grabbed him in a very friendly hug. "It's good to see you."

Off guard and slightly embarrassed, he said, "Hi, Alison."

"That was an unexpectedly friendly greeting," Daria said, showing a tinge of concern in her voice.

Extricating himself, he said, "Daria, this is Alison, the artist who did that drawing I gave you last summer. Alison, this is my girlfriend, Daria."

"Cool," Alison said. "You're still together." She then hugged Daria and said, "John told me a lot about you."

"Um…" Daria mumbled, uncomfortable with the open display.

"It's going to be great having two people who aren't art snobs around." Seeing the expression on John and Daria's faces, she explained, "You can learn a lot around here, but damn, you have to put up with a lot of attitude. When you think about it, you get a lot of attitude out there in the real world, so I guess it helps you learn to cope."

"Another microcosm that tells us that life outside our direct control sucks," Daria said. "Why am I not surprised?"

Alison laughed and said, "Speaking of attitudes, I like yours."

"I've worked hard all my life to cultivate it."

Stepping back, Alison then said, "I have the feeling you two were after some alone time, so I'll let you get back to that and I'll see you around. Okay?"

"We were trying to escape for a few minutes," John said. "Thanks."

"Nice to meet you," Daria said.

Alison said, "Later, guys," and hurried away down the path toward the cabins.

"You seem to have made an impression," Daria said.

"Um…"

Daria smirked. "She sees that you're a great catch, so she has more than two brain cells to rub together."

John relaxed and pulled Daria close. "You're a better catch."

"And don't you forget it," Daria teased.

* * *

"Good morning, Quinn," Mr. O'Neill cheerfully said as the teenager arrived at the school board offices. He was wearing a yellow t-shirt bearing an oddly smiling and crying face with a logo that said, "It's OK To Cry."

"Hi," she weakly said.

He gave Quinn a t-shirt and said, "Here's your counselor shirt. You can change in the restroom and then meet back here to get on the bus to pick up our campers."

She held it up. "You want me to wear _this_?"

"Of course."

"Eww!"

"Now Quinn, all of the counselors will be wearing it. It's our uniform!"

Looking unhappy with his lot in life, Mr. DeMartino approached, also wearing one of the shirts. "Ms. Morgendorffer, what an interesting surprise to see you here this morning."

_Mr. O'Neill and Mr. DeMartino. Can this possibly get any worse?_ Quinn thought. "Hi, Mr. DeMartino."

"The bus leaves in five minutes," Mr. O'Neill said. "You better get changed."

Quinn nodded and walked to the restroom, muttering, "Mom, you are so going to pay for this."

* * *

After an uncomfortable ride in the bus, made worse by Mr. O'Neill's attempts at singing, Quinn found herself in a classroom at Lawndale Elementary School, which was now the camp's activity room.

Standing before the small group of children, Mr. O'Neill said, "Greetings, and welcome to the Okay to Cry Corral. I'm Uncle Timothy, and together, we're going to take a journey to the land of self-discovery. A land where it's okay to laugh, and it's okay...to cry."

The children shuffled their feet and looked around, already losing interest.

"And now, I'd like my co-counselors, Quinn and Uncle Anthony, to say a few words about what they hope to accomplish here."

"Ladies first," Mr. DeMartino said.

Quinn stepped forward and had to think for a moment before saying, "I hope to give all of you a good start on your fashion sense."

When she stepped back, Mr. DeMartino reluctantly stepped forward, almost saying something before he remembered a card in his pocket and pulled it out. Reading from it, he said, "To help make this a pleasurable experience for all. Let's learn to love ourselves together," and then gave the children a forced smile that was more frightening than reassuring.

Mr. O'Neill said, "Thank you, Uncle Anthony. Now, I'm going to divide you into three groups." Gesturing with his hands, he counted off groups of four, "One, two, three. Quinn, you can take Group One, Uncle Anthony, Group Two and I'll take Group Three."

Quinn's group had two girls and two boys. She said, "Hi everybody. My name is Quinn, what's yours?"

"James."

"Allie."

"Wanda."

The last boy, who had to this point been sitting with his head resting on his arms, mumbled, "Link."

James said, "I like your smile."

"Your nails look so good," Allie said.

Wanda said, "You have such tiny pores."

"Thank you." Quinn then focused on Link and asked, "Do you have anything to say?"

"Yeah, it's summer."

* * *

Seated on a stool, John listlessly watched the featured summer lecturer, Daniel Dotson, speaking in front of a bundle of spears with paper plates skewered on them. Daniel said, "When I unveiled _Paper Plate Genocide_ in 1991, it was hailed as intriguing, provocative, even brilliant. And not just by me."

While most of the other students laughed, John whispered to Alison, seated on the next stool, "But also by every critic I paid off," causing her to snicker.

Daniel said, "No, we all know critics tend to get carried away. But what was I thinking when I created a work that seems to have turned out both seminal and semiotic?"

"Wow, that 'Learn-A-New-Word-A-Day' calendar was really worth it," Alison said, generating a chuckle from John.

Daria's cabinmate Paris said, "Excuse me, Mr. Dotson?"

"Please...Paris, isn't it? Call me Daniel," he said, giving her name a faux French accent.

Impressed by his personal attention, she said, "Daniel. I just want to say, I think you're the greatest living artist of our time."

"Even better than that guy with the happy little trees," John said, his comment hidden by the other students clapping their hands.

One of the other students, John remembered his name as Grant, said, "I was wondering; where do you get your inspiration?"

Alison said, "Every time I wipe my ass."

Dramatically mimicking his points, Daniel said, "I don't sit around and wait for inspiration. I grab it -- in the glint of the sun on a frozen peak...in the pain of an arthritic's hobble...in a lover's whisper in the dark. So I'd have to say, my inspiration comes from life itself."

Grant let out an overly impressed, "Wow."

John said, "You called that one right."

Daniel wrapped up his class by saying, "Well, that's enough of the old windbag's ramblings for today. We'll pick up here tomorrow."

"I can hardly contain my excitement," John said. "I wonder if the entire summer is going to be like this."

Alison shook her head. "I thought he sounded pompous in interviews. He's worse in real life. How far behind is he on child support to come here for some quick cash?"

"I bet it's the free room and board. Trust me; they don't pay staff worth a crap."

"Oh yeah, are your folks still working here?"

"Yep. Mom's doing pottery and ceramics and Dad's doing photography. Well, he will be when he gets back from Finland tomorrow."

* * *

Daria joined John and Alison as they waited in line at the cafeteria. John asked, "How was your first lecture?"

Daria sighed and said, "Method Writing. We should 'feel' what our characters are going through. The man is full of more hot air than the Hindenburg after it landed at Lakehurst."

"I thought the Hindenburg blew up trying to land at Lakehurst."

"Exactly."

"Sounds like you had as much fun as we did," Alison said.

Daria looked at John. "Whose idea was this?"

"How was I supposed to know the inmates were messed up more than the ones at Lawndale High?" he said in defense.

"Hmm, the odds of that were pretty unlikely, so you're off the hook."

Alison shook her head. "You two are weird."

"That sounded like my brother."

Daria glanced at Alison and said, "And your tattoos look like his brother's."

"You like them?" Alison said. "I got a great deal trading some of my designs."

"They make a statement," Daria said.

Alison asked, "You got any hidden tats?"

"No, just, um," Daria said before briefly lifting the edge of her shirt, "just a belly ring."

"I knew you weren't as plain as you tried to pretend."

Daria nudged John. "Are you going to let her talk to me like that?"

"Hey, I knew right off the bat that you weren't some plain Jane."

* * *

Carrying their lunches, John and Daria went to the Lane cabin and he opened the door.

Waiting inside and smoking his ever-present pipe, Vincent Lane turned, genuinely smiled and said, "John, I'm so glad to see you again."

"Dad," John said, setting his lunch on the nearest chair and going to Vincent. "You made it back."

Contrite, Vincent said, "I thought I would be on time for once."

"Hi, Mr. Lane," Daria said, feeling uncomfortable seeing the man for the first time since her parents had been made John's legal guardians.

"Daria," he said. "How are you?"

"Good."

"Here, let me help you," Vincent said, going to the dining table and pulling out some chairs. "We can sit down and catch up on each other's lives."

Amanda came in from the bedroom and said, "Oh good, John and Daria are here."

Daria whispered to John, "This is going to be a long lunch, isn't it?"

"Very."

She sighed. "I suppose it's only fair; you have to live with my parents."

* * *

Standing in the kitchen, Jake squinted at the fine print in a cookbook and read aloud, "Roast the garlic bunches at 350 degrees for 40 minutes."

The phone rang, causing him to jump and drop the cookbook, losing his place. "Dammit!"

When nobody appeared to answer, he picked up the phone and said, "Hello!"

"Hi," Tom Sloane said on the line, surprised by Jake's abrupt tone. "Um, can I please speak with Quinn?"

"What? Oh, sure, young man." Jake covered the phone and yelled, "Quinn! Phone!" as if he hadn't been upset moments before.

Quinn came down the stairs, dressed up for the evening and brushing her hair. "Who is it, Daddy?"

"I don't know. Do you want me to ask?"

"Forget it," Quinn said, taking the phone. "Hello."

"Hi Quinn, it's Tom Sloane."

"Oh, hi Tom."

"I need a favor and you might be able to help me. Are you busy on the Fourth of July?"

"Well, I was planning on going to the Landons, but that's not firm yet."

"Well, since I didn't come up with other plans, Mom's informed me that I will be attending the country club celebration."

Quinn rolled her eyes in sympathy. "I know the feeling."

"There will be fireworks."

"Fireworks? Those are so noisy."

"I'll buy you earplugs. Quinn, I have to go and would prefer decent company. If I don't, Mom and Dad will try to set me up with one of the Muffys sure to be prowling around."

"Hmm," Quinn said. "Formal or semiformal?"

"Semiformal. This is when the members get to, quote, cut loose, unquote."

Quinn grinned at the shopping possibilities. "I'll be there."

* * *

John smirked as he watched Daria sitting on a bench and writing in a notebook while half a dozen of his father's students moved around her taking photographs.

Vincent stepped among the students and said, "That's good. Everyone to the darkroom and develop your film. I expect to see finished prints in the morning. Have a good day."

After the students left, Daria said, "That felt weird."

"Thanks for your patience," Vincent said.

"Not that I don't mind a break from my writing class, but I'm still confused," Daria said. "I'm no good at posing or modeling, so why have me do it?"

"It's easy for a photographer to work with a model or someone who is automatically aware of how they look. But in the end, they will look posed while you look natural. This was an exercise to teach my students how to get a good photo from someone acting normally. Those are the photos that show real creativity and art."

John stepped up, saying, "And writing is about as normal as it gets with Daria."

"Hey, how was your class this afternoon?"

"Let's see, Paris is pissed off that Daniel is now paying more attention to Charlene while Alison was joking about using her female attributes to get a few gallery openings out of him."

Vincent snorted and said, "Some things never change in the art world."

"Does this mean we're being prepared for later life?" Daria asked.

"I've always said the art world would make a great soap opera," Vincent said with a smile.

John shrugged and said, "And we get to live it for the summer."

* * *

In her bedroom, Sandi paced back and forth in front of the rest of the Fashion Club. "Quinn, I hope you have a very good explanation for blowing off the Landons' party and not demonstrating the best of your summer wardrobe. Or has all that brainy PSTAT preparation caused you to lose your senses?"

Slightly irritated but also slightly amused, Quinn said, "Sandi, you know that I would love to go to the party, but I accepted an invitation to see the fireworks at Winged Tree Country Club."

"Winged Tree?" Stacy said in amazement. "They are so exclusive."

"Does the guy have a brother?" Tiffany slowly asked.

Not letting the news make a visible impression, Sandi said, "In that case, Quinn, you're excused. But we expect a full fashion report when you get back."

"Sure, Sandi," Quinn said. "Tiffany, I'm sorry, but Tom only has a sister."

"Too bad."

* * *

"Oops!" Alison said, quickly stepping back from the small, secluded clearing in the woods beyond the main campus of Ashfield. Good-naturedly, she said, "Sorry about that. I'll give you a minute to put your shirts on."

Red-faced and shirt rumpled a bit, Daria appeared and said, "That was embarrassing."

Trying to put a different face on things, John said, "Alison had to learn about things sometime."

Alison said, "Funny."

"What brings you out here?" Daria asked.

"John, your mom was looking for you. I guess it's a good thing I found you instead of her. That would have been real embarrassing."

"Any particular reason she was looking for us?" John said.

"Didn't say."

"We better see what she wants," Daria said. "Thanks for, um, letting us know, Alison."

"Oh, my pleasure."

Daria put a palm to her face. "I walked right into that one."

"Actually, I did," Alison said with a wink.

"Argh," Daria said, caught again.

John smiled at the exchange and said, "See you later, Alison. I better see what Mom wants."

"Later, kids." Alison watched them leave and sighed. "Damn, they're cute."

After straightening up their clothes further along the way, John and Daria reached the Lane cabin and found Amanda inside. John said, "Hi, Mom. Alison said you were looking for us."

Amanda smiled and said, "Yeah. I haven't seen you at all today and wanted to say, 'Hi.'"

* * *

Quinn looked over the table of children quietly making simple wind catchers and thought, _This isn't so bad._ A thumping noise from outside the room caught her attention, which made her remember that Link had stepped out several minutes before.

Curious, she got up and went out into the hallway where she found him lightly pounding his head against the wall and saying, "Dammit."

She said, "Link?"

He groaned and turned. "Oh, one of the wardens. Surprised you noticed."

"You were a little loud."

"You don't notice that I'm miserable, but you notice that I'm too loud banging my head against the wall."

"You kind of remind me of my sister. Maybe we can get you a padded room, too."

Link crossed his arms. "Padded room. Funny."

"She really has a padded room."

"Right."

Quinn explained, "The previous owners put in the padding for some freaky relative and my sister insisted on taking that room instead of the other normal room."

"You're not making this up," Link said. "You're not that original."

"Now that really sounds like my sister."

"My mom got rid of one jerk and then married an even bigger one. Since nobody wants to deal with me during the summer, I got sent to this lame-assed summer camp. What happened to your sister?"

"Smart, sensitive girl growing up in one of the most backward little towns imaginable with a little sister who could adapt better than she could."

Link snorted, but was clearly interested. "So what's your sister doing this summer?"

"From what she told me, stuck in an artist colony with her boyfriend and a bunch of snooty creative types that are driving her nuts."

"So life sucks no matter where you go."

"Not always," Quinn said. "But it will if Mr. O'Neill notices us and comes out with some of his icky New Agey silliness."

Link cringed. "Ugh, I hate that stuff."

"You and everyone at Lawndale High."

Allowing a small laugh, Link went back into the craft room with Quinn following.

* * *

"You looked so lovely this evening, Quinn," Kay Sloane said as she spoke to Tom and Quinn as the crowd dispersed after the fireworks display. Like the others present, the teens were tastefully attired in comfortable clothes that had just the right amount of formality for the occasion.

"Thank you," Quinn sweetly said. "I love your outfit. Where did you get it?"

"This? I picked it up at _Orleans_ the last time I was in D.C."

Coming up behind her mother, Elsie Sloane said, "Tom, what a surprise; you survived the night."

"Like I had a choice?" he said.

"As much as I did." Looking past Tom, Elsie said, "Hi, Quinn. I'm impressed by your tolerance for my brother."

"If I can endure my sister and her boyfriend, I can endure anything. Besides, the fireworks were pretty, if a little loud."

"I wish I could talk with your sister some more," Kay said. "She sounds as fascinating are you are."

"It'll have to wait. She and John are at an art colony out of state and won't be back until the end of next month."

Kay tilted her head with interest. "Art colony? I thought she was a writer and her boyfriend was a painter."

"You're right on both. The colony has a writing program, too."

"Your parents show a lot of trust to allow the two of them to be away for the summer together."

"Eh, they've kind of earned it."

* * *

With John's cats Zachary and Taylor lazily purring on her stomach, Quinn lay on her bed talking on the phone. "Daria, yeah, it's a formal dance, but it's also a fundraiser for the Lawndale Art Museum and Kay Sloane is on the board of directors. Can you think of a better way for John to get his art noticed?"

Talking on the phone in the Lane cabin and not thrilled about the offer, but feeling the need to be fair, Daria said, "Okay, Quinn, I'll ask him since 'who you know' seems to be how the art world works, or at least, the way it seems to work around here."

"Duh, Daria. That's how the world works."

"You realize this stuff justifies my cynicism even more, right?"

"I'm trying to do you two a favor."

"I know you are." Daria leaned her head back to rest against the wall. "Sorry, Quinn, but things have been more disillusioning than usual."

"Come on, you've been there for a month. There must be something good about the place."

"Well, John's parents seem to be doing better and I think they're honestly trying to make things up in their way. And there is one girl who's at least interesting to be around and doesn't make me want to shove a rabid squirrel into any available orifice on their body."

"See, even you can make friends in new places. Things are looking up for when you two go off to college. Oh, and for the rest – eww."

"I wouldn't want you to miss me too much," Daria said.

* * *

Glad the bus had finally stopped at the end of the day, Quinn glanced at Mr. DeMartino and thought, _After listening to Mr. O'Neill's singing every day, I'm starting to feel like him_. She followed the students off the bus and helped to supervise them while they waited for a parent to pick them up.

Holding a small bundle of wildflowers, Link came over to Quinn and offered them. She gave him a bright smile and said, "Thank you," as she accepted the flowers.

"Quinn, you're the first person who's ever really listened to me," he said.

"Oh, Link. You just needed to get out of your shell a little bit."

"Like your sister?"

"Like my sister."

"You're pretty cool."

"I know," Quinn said. Seeing a car driving up, she added, "My ride's here. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure thing, Quinn," Link said, looking as happy as she'd seen him since the summer began.

Quinn hopped over to the car and said, "Hi, Jeffy. I'm so looking forward to Chez Pierre tonight."

As Jeffy put the car in gear and drove away, Quinn looked back and saw Link with his eyes on the ground and slowly turning in despair. "Oh, no," she whispered.

* * *

Sitting on the floor of her cabin between Daria and John, Alison splashed wine into each of three glasses and then held up the bottle. In a faint slur, she said, "Oops, empty, sorry guys," and tossed the bottle behind her.

"You only had two glasses for each we had," Daria said.

John flipped through a sketchpad and said, "These are great pastels."

"I like them, too," Daria said and took a sip from her wine.

"I guess, it only took boffing Daniel twice to get them into a decent gallery."

John felt uncomfortable and said, "That was a little too much information."

"But he was fun."

Daria shook her head and said, "That was way too much information."

"Oh, come on, Daria. I've seen you two, in more ways than one. You're not above having a little fun with each other yourselves."

Daria blushed at that, but replied, "That's a little different."

"You're in love; that's great, but what about the rest of us?"

"Um," Daria said, trying to think of an appropriate answer.

Curious, Alison asked, "You're cute, in a bookish way. Have you ever kissed anyone besides John?"

"No."

With a light laugh, Alison said, "You need to. No strings attached," and then she kissed Daria. Having fun, she then turned and said, "You, too," before kissing John. Giggling, Alison fell back against the chair. After a moment, she saw John and Daria's surprised faces. "Um…"

Daria grabbed John's hand, said, "We've gotta go," and quickly pulled him out of the cabin.

"What the hell was that about?" Daria demanded when they were clear.

"I don't know, except that people do dumb things when they're drunk."

"Like kissing someone else's boyfriend?"

"Daria, she kissed you first."

"I need to think," she said as they moved out of view of Alison's cabin.

Meanwhile, Alison got unsteadily to her feet and looked out of the window, trying to see the couple. "Damn, I think I just screwed up."

* * *

To be continued in _Leaving Summer_

Some dialog from _Is It Fall Yet?_ by Glenn Eichler and Peggy Nicoll

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.  
December 2008-January 2009


	39. Leaving Summer

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
This is the thirty-ninth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Leaving Summer**

Home early from her date after claiming to feel ill and promising another date, Quinn dropped onto her bed and looked up at the canopy overhead. She thought of Link at the Okay To Cry Corral summer camp and the look in his eyes as she drove away for her date that afternoon. In all of her dating experience, she'd never seen such hurt. "Good one, Morgendorffer," she said, sounding very much like her mother. "You're the dating expert; why didn't you see that coming?"

Unable to answer, Quinn rolled to the side and picked up the telephone.

John and Daria sat on the sofa in his parents' cabin, each closely watching the wall and thinking about the events of earlier that evening. John looked at the ringing phone and said, "Think I should answer it?"

Daria nodded and said, "Might as well."

John lifted the handset and said, "Hello."

Quinn said, "Hey, John. Is Daria there? I hope I'm not disturbing anything."

"Yeah, she's here and no, you're not." John passed the phone to Daria and said, "It's Quinn. She sounds…off."

Daria held the phone. "Off?"

"It sounds like something is bothering her."

"And she's asking for me? I don't like this." Into the phone, she said, "Quinn?"

"Daria," Quinn said, "I think I need your help."

"You think?"

"Okay, I need your help. This would be too…weird to talk to anybody else about."

"I've had a pretty weird day myself, so go ahead."

Quinn thought for a moment. "How do I put this? Um, I, uh, have a problem with a guy that really likes me."

When she didn't hear elaboration, Daria asked, "What kind of problem?"

"Well…he saw me go on a date with someone else."

"You do that to guys all the time. What's different?"

"He…I think he was really hurt by it."

"Aren't the guys you usually date pretty thick-skinned about this stuff?"

"He's not one of the guys from school," Quinn said, then very quickly added, "he's one of the boys at camp."

"Oh," Daria said as she realized Quinn's problem. "Most of the kids there are pre-teens, right?"

"Yeah. He's twelve."

"To be honest, I'm not surprised that some boy developed a crush on you. Hold on a second." Daria held the phone toward John and said, "John, help me out here. Some twelve-year old developed a crush on Quinn and she's concerned that he was upset about seeing her head out on a date with someone."

He shrugged. "Hey, it's part of growing up. You get a crush on a girl –of course nothing ever really starts out of it, let alone has a chance to work out – you feel like the world's ending – you get over it and go on with your life. If you want my opinion, it happens to every guy sooner or later. As long as you didn't kick him to the ground in the process, he'll be fine eventually."

Daria said to Quinn, "Did you hear that?"

"Yeah, but he probably thinks I kicked him because I'm the first person in a long time that's really listened. His mom is kind of out there and his step-dad sounds really mean."

John said, "Ouch."

"Any suggestions?" Quinn said with mild desperation in her voice.

John frowned and said, "Maybe you could try to be nice and let him down the rest of the way easy? Explain to him the, um, age difference problem?"

Daria said, "Sorry, but I can't think of much more. This is really way out of my experience."

"Thanks guys, I'll try it," Quinn said. "What about you? You said something weird happened; do you want to talk about it?"

Daria said, "Quinn, I think our situation is a little out of your experience range."

"Is it about…um…are you?"

"Yes it is and no, I most definitely am not."

"Oh, thank goodness," Quinn said.

John tilted his head and said, "You know, Quinn may have given us a good answer for our situation."

"I did?"

"She did?"

"I'll explain it to you later, Daria," John said.

Quinn said, "What about me?"

"We'll explain it all to you after that," John said, "probably when we no longer live with your parents."

"You guys are getting weird," Quinn said. "Anyway, thanks for the help. I'll try it out. Bye."

"Good luck, Quinn," Daria said." Good-bye."

After hanging up the phone, Daria said, "Explain."

"We simply let Alison down easy and explain that…well, we're just not into that many people at the same time."

"Do you really think it will work?"

"I have no idea, but we can't hide here for the rest of the summer, either."

"We could try."

"How many butterfly stories can you listen to before reaching for the bug spray?"

"We'll talk to Alison tomorrow."

* * *

The apprehension that Quinn had felt all morning faded as she saw Link finally climb onto the "Okay To Cry Corral" bus and hoped that he wasn't upset. Her hope failed as he walked by, without a word or even a glance, to take the rearmost seat on the bus. He crossed his arms and stared with deliberate intensity at the back of the seat in front of him.

The other children on the bus seemed bored or even barely awake. Her fellow counselor, Mr. DeMartino, seemed more intent on steeling himself against the final counselor, Mr. O'Neill's, regular attempts at leading the campers in a sing-along. Quinn knew that the worst possible thing was happening; Link was feeling alone and everyone else on the bus would ignore him.

She quietly moved to the back of the bus and said, "Hi, Link."

He didn't answer and only turned away to look at the inner siding of the bus.

"Link?"

He seemed to sniffle a bit, but didn't turn and didn't make any attempt to speak.

"Come up front, Quinn," Mr. O'Neill cheerfully said. "I have a new song for us to sing today!"

She glared back at him. _Jerk._

* * *

It was after lunch before John and Daria first saw Alison. She was sitting on a bench near the student cabins, pale and holding her head. She looked up at them and weakly said, "Hey, guys."

"Hey," John said.

She asked, "Did I do what I think I remember doing last night?"

"You mean kissing both of us?" Daria said.

"I was afraid of that. Damn." Alison rubbed her head in the vain hope of clearing her hangover headache.

John said, "Look, we…um, well, all of us had some wine."

"I had a lot more," Alison said.

"Okay, you had a lot more. Daria and I agree that you weren't thinking very clearly."

"Oh, I was thinking, just not with my brain."

"You didn't mean any harm and, though we were a bit weirded out, no hard feelings."

Alison laughed, but had to stop when it made her head throb. "You're letting me down easy. How cute."

Daria said, "It's not like you were a bad kisser or anything."

When Alison cocked her head toward her, Daria blushed and stammered, "Um…I mean…"

Seeing her embarrassment, John gently grasped Daria's arm and started to guide her away. He hurriedly said to Alison, "Thanks for understanding and we'll see you later."

After they left, Alison rested her face in her hand and said, "I need aspirin, I need coffee and I need time to think. In that order."

After they reached the Lane cabin, John said, "Yeah, Alison's not a bad kisser, but why the blush-a-thon?"

Daria looked at him as if she couldn't believe what he said. "Because I'm a girl."

"Oh," John replied, and then added, "Oh!"

"Yeah."

Figuring humor was the best way to help Daria with her confusion, John said, "Hey, at least I know that if I'd been born a girl, you'd still be interested in me."

She gave him a smile and rested her cheek against his shoulder. "No ego inflation there."

"Just basking in my luck."

"Idiot."

"Do I get points for not suggesting…?"

"My boots still say, 'I can kick you.'"

* * *

"Link, I…" Quinn tried to say as the boy pushed past her and off of the bus at the end of the day. She watched him hurry away across the parking lot and muttered, "Dammit."

"Is there a problem, Ms. Morgendorffer?" Mr. DeMartino asked, approaching from the back of the bus where he had retreated to avoid Mr. O'Neill's singing.

"Nothing."

"Quinn, I'm not as unobservant as Mr. O'Neill," he said. "All summer, you have been the only one able to talk to Link. Yet today, he's avoided you and now you're muttering to yourself like your sister."

Depressed and dispirited, she let her shoulders drop. "I didn't mean to, but I think I hurt him."

"Please – elaborate."

"Yesterday, I found that he likes me. As in, likes, likes me."

"I see. And?"

"He saw me leave with my date yesterday. When I looked back, Link was… "

"An unfortunate situation," Mr. DeMartino said, motioning Quinn to continue off of the bus. "That from your reaction, you have not previously encountered."

Walking down the aisle and then stepping off the entry steps, Quinn said, "Yeah. Guys date me because they want to be seen with me, not because they like me."

Exiting the vehicle himself, Mr. DeMartino said, "So, now you don't know what to do."

"Yeah. I can't believe I'm asking this. Any suggestions?"

"Unfortunately, no. The damage has already been done."

"I was hoping someone would have an answer."

Speaking with an uncharacteristic openness and sadness in his voice, Mr. DeMartino said, "Life doesn't always have answers."

* * *

Helen snatched the ringing cell phone from her desk and said, "Eric, I'm right down the hall, you don't have to call my cell phone."

Holed up in her bunk with the curtain drawn, Daria said, "Mom, I'm not Eric."

"Daria? I'm very busy right now and…"

"Can we talk?"

"And…yes, we can talk," Helen said, catching the tone of her daughter's voice. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"I kissed a girl. Well, more like a girl kissed me. And John."

"One moment," Helen said as she got up and went to the door. "Marianne, no interruptions please."

"Yes, Helen," Marianne said without looking up from transcribing courtroom notes.

Helen closed and locked the door before getting back to Daria. "Now we can have a little privacy. What happened?"

"John and I were at Alison's cabin."

"You've mentioned her. College student, right?"

"Recent graduate. Anyway, we had some wine. John and I a couple glasses and Alison, more."

"Wine?"

"I know we shouldn't, but it was only two glasses each."

"We can deal with that later. Go ahead."

"Alison had been teasing John and me about how we haven't exactly had experience with anyone else and she decided to make a point."

"It sounds fairly harmless, as long as she didn't try anything else."

"No, Mom, nothing else. It freaked us out and we left. But the problem is…the problem is that I liked it."

Helen gently laughed.

"Mom, it's not funny."

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I was laughing at myself. Don't think you're the first girl to be curious."

"Mom?"

"I experimented a bit in college. Nothing serious and I decided it wasn't for me. Not that I'm encouraging you to experiment, mind you."

"Of course not."

"I'm saying that you're in an unexpected situation, but it's not as unusual as you think it is. Your reaction and your curiosity are natural. Let me ask you a question."

"Go ahead."

"Has this changed your feelings about John?"

"No."

"Then all you felt was a physical response. You're off-balance because you think it might have been an emotional response."

"That makes sense"

"In that case, hold John a little closer the next time you two are together. Temptation is something everyone…everyone feels. I don't think you'll give in to it so easily."

"Thanks, Mom."

"It's what I'm here for, Daria."

"I better let you get back to work."

Helen listened to the quiet in her office for a second and said, "I can spare a few more minutes."

* * *

Alison kicked the ground as she walked. "Dammit, I never hit on straight chicks. What the hell was I thinking?" She grunted and then said, "You weren't thinking. Maybe a night out will be the smart thing to do. Give those kids some time to get their heads back on straight."

She swerved and made for the parking lot. "Maybe I can get mine screwed on at the same time."

* * *

As John walked with Daria after stopping by her cabin that evening, he said, "You look a little shell-shocked."

"I actually called Mom today about our, um situation."

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. It was a pretty good conversation and I think I can deal with things a little better now."

"So why the look?"

"Mom got a little carried away in reminiscing about the past and…I don't think I can ever look at a banana split the same way again."

* * *

"Can you take a message?" Quinn said from within her room.

Helen sighed and said, "I will." After writing a boy's message and phone number on a pad, she turned off the cordless phone and slowly opened Quinn's door.

Quinn was flat on her back and staring up at the canopy on her bed, looking very much like Daria staring up at the ceiling counting cracks. Helen said, "Jamie said that he has tickets for the Guys-4-Girls concert."

"Uh-huh. Thanks."

Helen leaned against the door frame and said, "Followed by a trip to the Museum of Medical Mishaps and dessert at Sweeney Todd's."

"That's nice."

Helen closed the door and said, "Okay, Quinn. You're moping around your room and you've given three boys the brush-off tonight. What's the matter?"

Quinn sat up. "I can't get anything by you, can I?"

Helen sat on the bed and said, "I've learned a few tricks over the years."

Quinn pulled her knees up to her chest and told her mother about what had happened. She expectantly looked up. "Help?"

"You didn't do anything wrong," Helen said. "Maybe you could've made things a little easier for Link if you had caught on early and tried to explain that the feeling wasn't mutual, but then again, maybe not. Be nice and don't try to force the issue. It can be hard to step back and let someone recover on their own, but it's the right thing to do."

"Voice of experience?"

"It's something useful to learn if you ever want to survive as a mother."

* * *

Link sat down on a chair as Mr. O'Neill went around his desk and took a seat on the other side. "Link, I asked you to stop by because I've noticed you seem a little bit... subdued."

Link shrugged and with disinterest said, "I was gonna say miserable, but okay."

"Growing up is kind of like being a kite, isn't it? We want to fly, but we don't really trust ourselves to cut the parental string and soar with the birds." He laughed at what he imagined was a creative metaphor.

Growing impatient, Link said, "A kite doesn't fly if you cut its string. It blows around in the wind for a while and then crashes."

"Exactly. Just the way we..."

"Just like real life. You think something great is going to happen, and then the whole thing crashes in a big, stinking pile."

"Oh, well, I..."

"What do you know? 'Cause it seems to me you spout out a lot of crap about loving ourselves, and that doesn't do any good to me trying to figure out why someone would build up my hopes and then slam them against the wall."

"Oh, well, that certainly sounds like something we can talk about..."

"I don't want to talk about it! I want to slink away and never see Quinn again." He stood and pushed his chair back. "You can't do a damn thing to help me with that, can you, 'Uncle Timothy'?"

Taken aback, Mr. O'Neill said, "Well, Link…"

"That's what I thought. You don't know what you're doing and you even suck at that," Link said as he hurried out of the room.

After the door slammed, Mr. O'Neill said, "Oh my. We seem to have a problem with Ms. Morgendorffer. I'd better call the authorities."

* * *

Still seated at his desk, Mr. O'Neill pleaded, "I really think we should call Child Protective Services."

Hands planted firmly on his desk, Ms. Li leaned forward and said, "It's a good thing I intercepted your phone call. You remember what they said would happen to you and me the last time you filed a false report, don't you?"

"But we can't take any chances."

"Exactly," Ms. Li said. "That is why I'm going to investigate this situation before I even think of allowing you to call CPS."

"Yes, Ms. Li."

"Timothy, it will be most…unfortunate for you if you get overly excited and call anyway. Do I make myself clear?"

He stared at his lap. "Yes, Ms. Li."

* * *

The sun had just risen over the treetops as John and Daria walked along one of the colony's footpaths, holding hands. John said, "Last chance; are you sure you want to do this?"

"Positive," Daria said. "We've thoroughly discussed it and came to an agreement. We have to find out. You're not getting cold feet, are you?"

"No, just wanted to be sure that we were absolutely certain."

"We are."

"Good."

They stopped at the door of Alison's cabin and John knocked. After a wait and a second knock, Alison opened the door.

She was clearly just out of bed and not fully awake. "Hey guys."

"Hi," John said, as did Daria.

Covering her eyes against the sunlight, Alison said, "If you're at my front door, I guess you're not afraid to come in."

"We didn't plan on staying outside," Daria said as she stepped through the door.

* * *

Quinn was surprised to see Ms. Li waiting at the parking lot. Standing beside her, Mr. O'Neill seemed even more timid than usual while Mr. DeMartino wisely kept his distance from both of them.

"Ms. Morgendorffer," Ms. Li called out. "Come over here, please."

"Um, okay," she said and joined them.

"Young Link is waiting inside my office, so we'll adjourn to there for our little discussion," Ms. Li said.

"Discussion?"

"We'll explain once we're inside."

"I think I better call my mother," Quinn said.

"That won't be necessary," Ms. Li quickly replied. "But if it turns out to be, you will be able to call her immediately."

Completely untrusting, Quinn followed them, wondering what could possibly be going on.

* * *

"What was that all about?" Alison said, still feeling the tingle of two kisses on her lips and utter confusion in her mind.

"Returning the favor," Daria said. "It only seemed fair that since I was kissed by a girl, I should kiss a girl."

John said, "One kiss in fun deserves another in return."

"But a kiss is just a kiss," Daria said, "and it doesn't have to mean anything more."

John said, "We appreciated the thought the other night and well, we were flattered, so we decided to give the same in return."

"Making us even," Alison said, catching their intent. "Fair enough. Oh, and yes, I enjoyed the kisses in return. Now, do you mind if I get some coffee and wake up?"

* * *

Seated beside Link in front of Ms. Li's desk, Quinn screamed at Mr. O'Neill, "What?! How could you think that?"

Ms. Li covered her ears and closed her eyes in a determined effort to avoid a headache.

Mr. O'Neill sat to one side of the office desk and said, "Link was very upset and specifically mentioned your name. Sometimes young people don't know how to properly say things about certain, uh, sensitive subjects."

Link shook his head in disgust. "You moron! I was upset that Quinn went out with some other guy, not that we did anything. Sheesh, forget about pulling your head out of your butt; get it out of the damn gutter. Just because you have some freak-o fantasies with that brunette you sneak off with after camp, don't think that applies to the rest of us."

Ms. Li said, "Sneaking off with some brunette?"

While Mr. O'Neill sputtered, Quinn said, "Ms. Barch."

"Mr. O'Neill," Ms. Li firmly said, "We will have a discussion about this later…in private."

"Ms. Li, I can explain," Mr. O'Neill finally said.

"In _private_," Ms. Li said, leaving no doubt about who was in command between the two of them.

Speaking quickly, Quinn said, "All that happened is that Link had a crush on me and gave me some flowers and I acted like I did whenever a guy gives me flowers and then I got in the car with my date and I looked back and Link looked all hurt and stuff and I knew I messed up and I felt really bad but I never did anything like Mr. O'Neill suggested because that would be so…eww."

Ms. Li clasped her hands under her chin. "Ms. Morgendorffer, that is probably the most convincing thing I've ever heard you say."

"Oh, um, thanks."

"As a matter of fact, I don't think we need to go any further. Quinn, Link, you may go now. Mr. O'Neill, stay."

As Quinn and Link reached the door, Ms. Li added, "Tell Mr. DeMartino that Mr. O'Neill won't be joining him today."

"We will," Quinn said, then closed the door behind them.

Link glanced at Quinn and said, "Wow, he's even a bigger jerk than my step-dad."

"Yeah, but then, so was I. I should've…I don't really know what I should've done, but I wish I hadn't blown you off like I did. I'm sorry."

Link shrugged, kept his eyes forward and said, "I guess my heart had to get broken eventually."

Quinn nodded, but thought, _Mine hasn't. But then, I've never felt that much for anyone, either…_

Link said, "I wonder if Uncle Anthony will let us go outside if Uncle Timothy isn't around?"

"It's worth a try."

* * *

Just before stepping out of the door to the family cabin, Vincent turned and said, "Are you sure, John?"

Next to the small sofa, John nodded. "You've been here for most of the summer and it's the most I've seen of you in years. I appreciate it, but I know you need to get out on assignment again."

Vincent took a puff from his pipe and said, "I appreciate what I missed seeing you grow up. Your mother and I will drop you a line when we get to the mountains of Jamaica."

"Don't forget to score John some coffee," Daria said. "He lives on the stuff."

"I won't forget." Vincent stepped back and embraced both of them. "Daria, thank you. John's staying with your parents was the best thing to happen to him. Tell your mother that she was right."

"Um, thanks," Daria said.

He released them and said, "Good-bye…for now. I'll stop by to see you when I get a chance."

"Thanks, Dad," John replied.

"Enjoy the rest of your stay," Vincent said before leaving.

John took Daria's hand and said, "I guess we have the place to ourselves for the next week."

* * *

Wearing a smile that was actually pleasant instead of disturbing, Mr. DeMartino brought the children to a halt next to the waiting bus. "Well, campers, how was your hike?"

Link said, "Better than hitting my head against the wall."

One of the other children said, "Hooray for Uncle Anthony!" and the others joined in on a long-lasting cheer.

Surprised that she had enjoyed the hike, Quinn stood behind the campers while ignoring the heat and the sweat it caused.

Buoyed by the cheers, Mr. DeMartino said, "Thank you. From now on, we're going hiking every day!"

As the children started to climb onto the bus, Quinn said to Link, "How are you doing?"

He still refused to look at her. "Today sucked more and less than any other day."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No." After a long pause, Link said, "But later, I don't know."

* * *

Cuddled with John under a sheet over the sofa, Daria teasingly said, "So you thought about it, huh? Did you really think you could satisfy two girls?"

He kissed her cheek and said, "I have no idea, but the thought of trying…has its ego appeal."

"You and your ego."

"You were tempted, too."

"There is something to say about someone with what you might call 'inside knowledge,' but since something else was lacking…" she gave him long, slow kiss and said, "I decided to keep what I've got."

* * *

On the last day of camp, Mr. DeMartino stood on the steps of the building with a fresh outlook on life like he hadn't experienced in years. Meanwhile, the campers milled around on the front lawn as they waited for the bus.

Quinn found Link off by himself, as usual, and said, "Hi."

"Hey," he said after a very brief glance.

"Word has it that Mr. O'Neill won't be back in class next year. A lot of Lawndale High students are going to owe you one."

"Why me? That idiot dug his own grave and jumped in with both feet."

"But you told him off and spilled the beans about Ms. Barch."

Link made a face. "I can't believe nobody knew about those two. Yuck."

"Everyone knew, but nobody said anything." Quinn also made a queasy face. "I don't think anyone wanted to think about it. I know I didn't."

Hearing a cheerful tune coming down the street, Mr. DeMartino said, "Hey campers, how would you like a treat before you leave today?"

Cries of, "Ice cream!" "Yay!" and "Cool!" came from the children as they started to move toward the approaching truck.

Mr. DeMartino stepped out in front and waved the vehicle down. His comment of, "My treat," brought even more cheers from the children.

"You want some?" Quinn asked Link.

He got up and slowly started toward the other kids. "Free food. Besides, I can't remember the last time I had ice cream. My mom only buys it by the pint and eats it straight out of the tub before I get a chance."

When they got near, Brittany's familiar, squeaky voice came from the truck. "Oh Kevvie, look, it's Mr. DeMartino."

Kevin got up from the driver's seat and went to the back section. "Hey, Mr. D. How's it going?"

Seemingly unaffected at seeing the couple, Mr. DeMartino said, "Surprisingly good, Kevin. Hello, Brittany. Take the entire class's order. I'm paying."

"You never did that for us, Mr. D," Kevin said, disappointed.

"Maybe I will next year…if everyone acts well enough to deserve a treat."

"Cool."

"Wow, Mr. DeMartino," Brittany said. "You seem so different."

"A summer away from the daily grind can do a man a lot of good. Speaking of summers away, weren't you two supposed to be life guards?"

"We were fired," Kevin said, "But Mack Daddy got us this job."

Quinn grinned and whispered to Mr. DeMartino, "Rumor has it that Mack took Jodie out to Chez Pierre, so he must've earned more than enough money over the summer."

"And found someone to cover a thankless job while he took the rest of the summer off," Mr. DeMartino whispered back. "A bright young man."

"Hey, Quinn," Kevin said, earning him a cautionary look from Brittany. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm a counselor," she answered. "Can I have a fat-free frozen yogurt, please?"

Brittany brought one out and said, "Can you believe that they only have one little box of these?"

After everyone had been served, Brittany rang up the total and said, "That will be $18.60, Mr. DeMartino."

Kevin took a twenty from Mr. DeMartino and opened the cash drawer. "Hmm, that'll be, uh…$28.60 back. Man, that's weird. We're almost out of change." He looked up and grinned. "Must be all those sales we've made today."

Mr. DeMartino took the money and said, "Kevin, I would say that this is what we call a 'teachable moment,' but since I'm currently not your teacher, don't worry about it."

"I won't, Mr. D."

Walking away as he put the cash back in his wallet, Mr. DeMartino said, "With this, I can swing by Shirts And Pants Outlet and pick up a real, _new_ pair of pants."

Link looked up at Quinn and said, "Are they what I can expect to see in high school?"

Quinn rubbed her forehead and said, "If they keep that up, you might be sitting next to them."

"Wonderful."

"But there are some better parts to high school."

"You mean, like dating? I think I'll concentrate on surviving middle school first."

"I deserve that," Quinn said. "Look, I know it doesn't mean much to you now, but if you ever change your mind and need someone to talk to, give me a call."

When Link didn't reply, she added, "Or e-mail."

Link gave her a brief glance, maybe a hint of a smile, and then he turned and walked toward the bus stop.

* * *

Holding onto her portfolio, Alison leaned into the right window of John and Daria's car. "Hey guys, have a safe trip home."

"You too," Daria said from the passenger seat.

"And good luck with the galleries," John said.

"Good luck with that last year of high school. Trust me, it can be a killer."

Daria said, "Warning noted."

Alison said, "I'm not going to forget your offer…when you turn 18."

Daria's cheeks reddened at the comment, but she maintained her composure. "A promise is a promise."

"Great."

"You had better remember your part: no variations on Botticelli's _Birth of Venus._ It seems like everyone does that."

"My word."

John said, "I should be jealous."

Alison winked at him. "Hey, it's a girl thing." She stepped back and said, "I need to hit the road, too. I'll keep in touch."

After saying good-bye, John and Daria drove away. Alison walked to her small car, humming to herself.

* * *

When John and Daria opened the door to the Morgendorffer home, Helen turned and stood facing them with her arms folded. She said, "I had a very interesting conversation with Amanda earlier today."

"Mom called here?" John said.

"Yes. She asked me to check if you had locked the door to the cabin when you left. It seems she and Vincent have been in Jamaica for the last week and you've had the cabin to yourself."

Daria said, "Before you go any farther, I slept in my assigned cabin for the entire week. In the interest of full disclosure and protecting ourselves from possible future inquiry, we did take advantage of the privacy offered at other times during the day."

Helen nodded. "I believe you. Thanks for being honest."

"It's the only thing that doesn't blow up in our faces," John said.

"Amanda also said that she made a good trade for her pottery and that she hoped the twenty-five pounds of Blue Mountain she's sending would be enough."

Jake came down the stairs and said, "Twenty-five pounds from Jamaica? It's nothing illegal, is it?"

John's eyes were wide in surprise. "No, no. Nothing illegal; it's only coffee."

After a whistle, Jake said, "Wow, that's a lot of coffee."

Daria said, "You're going to share, right?"

"It's a difficult choice, and only because I love you."

* * *

Quinn sat at the computer desk while Daria put her things away and John reclined on the bed, petting his two cats. Quinn said, "Daria, you even got a little bit of a tan over the summer. It looks good on you."

"I hadn't noticed." Daria closed her suitcase and put it into the closet. "You seem to have survived Mr. DeMartino running the camp by himself for the last week."

"He's not so bad, as long as you let him out for recess once a day."

Daria chuckled and said, "Maybe that would help the rest of the teachers."

Scratching Taylor's head and rubbing Zachary's neck, John said, "Quinn, are these cats lying as badly as I think they are?"

"I went through two lint brushes getting their fur off my clothes this summer," she said. "They've had plenty of attention, not to mention all the time they spent with Dad."

"Uh-huh," John said, looking at the cats. "You didn't try to help Jake cook, did you?"

"Only when he tried to make that _trout a la crème_ stuff," Quinn said.

"You know, John's turned out to be a fairly passable cook," Daria said.

"I bet." Quinn smirked at the two of them. "Oh, yeah, I heard about you having a whole week together with John's parents gone. Did your practice session work out?"

"Practice session?" John said, confused.

"A practice week of being married, silly."

In almost one motion, Daria and John buried their faces in their hands while John said, "Great, and school starts Monday."

* * *

Some dialog from _Is It Fall Yet?_ by Glenn Eichler and Peggy Nicoll

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

February-March 2009


	40. Starry Eyes Open

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the fortieth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Starry Eyes Open**

Ms. Li's voice announced over Lawndale High's P.A. system, "Welcome back students and remember, the school nurse is in and ready to take your voluntary urine sample. Show your Lawndale High spirit with the gift of urine!"

Walking down the hallway with Daria, John looked up at one of the speakers. "She didn't really say that, did she?"

Several calls of "Eww!" from other students led Daria to say, "No doubt about it. At least she didn't call it the gift that keeps on giving."

"Shh," John said. "You know the walls have ears and that might give her ideas about catheters and I'd really rather not go there."

Reading her class schedule, Daria said, "I'm curious about our new English teacher. I wonder who they could've found on such short notice."

John laughed and said, "I wonder if they're going to stick her with the Self Esteem class."

"If they do, I'll bet you fifty bucks she'll run screaming in well-reasoned terror within a week."

"Oh no, Daria. No sucker bets."

"Dammit."

They reached the room and walked inside. Jodie and Mack were already seated and waved them over.

Jodie said, "How was your summer?"

"Different," Daria said, taking a seat.

"But in a good way," John added as he also sat down. "Mack, we heard that you survived the ice cream truck and palmed the last couple of weeks off on Kevin and Brittany."

"I feel kinda bad about it," Mack said. "But Brittany finally took over handling the money and they at least didn't owe anything for the last week."

"Jodie?" Daria said.

"Overworked, unpaid and I had a pair of shoes ruined by someone at the soup kitchen losing their lunch." She reached over and squeezed Mack's hand. "But we were able to get one nice evening together at _Chez Pierre_."

"Is the French on the menus as bad as I've heard?" Daria said.

Jodie laughed and said, "Oh, yeah. I think they had a first year French student do their translations."

A young woman with long black hair and a soft, coppery complexion entered the room and went directly to the blackboard. John guessed that she was probably fresh out of college and whispered to Daria, "This must be her first job out of school. Boy, is she in for a rude shock."

The woman wrote her name on the board and then faced the class. "Good morning. My name is Ms. Ruiz and as you may have noticed on your schedules, I will be your Senior English teacher for the year."

Kevin, quickly followed by Brittany, entered the room and he said, "Whoa, that doesn't look like Mr. O'Neill."

"You're late," Ms. Ruiz said.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm the QB."

"Ah, Kevin Thompson. I've been warned about you. And the young lady behind you must be Brittany Taylor."

"That's me!" Brittany squeaked.

Kevin shrugged. "See, no prob."

"Yes, it is a _problem_," she said, emphasizing the full word. "That I expect not to be repeated. Now, sit down, young man, so that I can do the roll call."

"Come on, babe," Kevin said, escorting Brittany to desks behind Mack and Jodie. "This new teacher is like, a real slave drier."

Ms. Ruiz glared at him and firmly said, "Slave driver. If I can speak fluent English as a second language, I expect you to be fluent in your primary language. If you're not now, you will be at the end of the year."

Daria said, "All this time, I thought the Labors of Heracles were ambitious."

"You must be Daria Morgendorffer," Ms. Ruiz said as she sat on the edge of her desk and opened her roll book. "If I have to divert a river to flush the manure out of someone's brain, I will."

John smirked and said, "I think the Wonderful World of English has just changed for the better."

* * *

"Oh my God, you're kidding," Jodie said as she and Mack conversed with Daria and John during lunch.

Daria shook her head. "Mr. O'Neill's touchy-feely concern finally did him in and Quinn had a front row seat."

"I always thought the guy was a little creepy," Mack said. "But to think thatman, his mind must be down in the gutter with Charles."

"I'd give Upchuck better sense than that," John said.

Mack nodded and said, "I'll give you that one."

"Okay," Jodie said. "Kevin and Brittany heard some kind of story about you two having a 'trial marriage' over the summer. There has got to be a good story behind that."

"Mom and Dad were out of town the last week we were at the art colony," John said. "So, I had the cabin to myself. A few people have decided to, um, embellish what happened."

"A whole week alone?" Jodie said with good natured jealousy in her voice. "I'd kill for that."

Daria said, "It's not like we were that alone. All the adults at the colony kept an eye on us. But I will admit that they were not especially vigilant."

Mack asked, "John, can talk your parents into adopting us next summer?"

* * *

Seated at a lunchroom table with the rest of the Fashion Club, Quinn said, "Of course I want you there. Everything has to be perfect and where else can I go for that?"

Sandi said, "We're just making sure, Quinn."

"Ooooh, I'm so jealous," Stacy said.

Tiffany agreed. "Yeah, jealous."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure to let any really cute boys I meet know that I have the most popular and fashionable friends for them to meet."

The fleeting, almost hungry looks in the other girls' eyes bothered Quinn, but part of her understood it. Lawndale High wasn't a very large school and, to be honest with herself, the pool of dateable guys had started to shrink. Some said the wrong thing or wore the wrong clothes or even drove the wrong car. Some stepped away and refused, or couldn't afford, to play the game anymore and others had, somehow, found matches that made them happy for at least the present. A secret part inside Quinn hoped that it would distract the others so that they wouldn't notice her backing off of the old game of competitive dating.

"All of you realize," Sandi said, "That these new dating prospects will require a complete upgrade to our wardrobes."

"We need a shopping trip," Tiffany said.

"I saw the cutest new sleeveless dresses in Waif," Stacy said. "I can't wait to buy one."

"How about Saturday?" Sandi said. "We can go to Cashman's before going over to Quinn's house."

"Sure, Sandi," Quinn said. "That sounds great."

* * *

As John was preparing to leave Art class, Ms. DeFoe asked him, "Have you decided on what to show this Saturday?"

Caught by surprise, John said, "How did you know?"

She tilted her head and said, "I'm a supporter of the Lawndale Art Museum and saw your name in the newsletter."

"Are you going to be there?"

She laughed and said, "On a teacher's salary?"

"Sorry."

"Don't worry; it's to get money out of the guilty rich. So, what are you showing?"

"I thought I'd bring some of the stuff I did over the summer."

"How was Ashfield?"

"Pretty good, once you get past the veneer of pomposity and ignore nine out of ten residents."

She chuckled and said, "Sounds like an art colony, all right."

* * *

Despite it being after lunch, Mr. DeMartino was in a surprisingly good mood by the time Daria and John had history class and things proceeded nicely while he passed out the course syllabus and textbooks.

Kevin idly flipped through his book and stopped at one picture. "Hey, Mr. D."

"Kevin, I see you have your book open. Is this a hopeful sign of your improved attitude toward learning?"

Kevin held up the book so that Mr. DeMartino could see the picture and said, "This dude was in last year's book."

"Benjamin Franklin was an important historical figure."

"But I thought we were going to get some new history."

"You will learn new things, Kevin," Mr. DeMartino said, starting to lose his composure.

"Then why this old guy? I mean, he's not really new."

"Because it doesn't matter if you are studying U.S. History or World History, some people are important enough to be discussed in each class."

"But he's, like, old history."

Brittany looked at the picture and said, "Eww, you're right. He's really old."

Kevin said, "Yeah, he's like this old, balding guy. Why would anyone want to learn about a loser like him? How about someone like Don Shula? He's a winner."

As Mr. DeMartino gave up and bashed his head against the chalk board, Daria said, "There is some stupidity that no amount of optimism can overcome."

* * *

John looked at a collection of his paintings propped against one wall of his room and said, "I guess you could call this my 'Art Colony Reboot Period.'"

Sitting on the bed, Daria said, "Better than a 'Rebirth' period, or you'd try to use the placenta in something."

John stroked his chin and said, "Do you have any of your anatomical catalogs handy?"

Daria rested her face in her palm and said, "Me and my big mouth."

Helen knocked and opened the door. "Hi, kids. Dinner's ready."

"Okay, Mom," Daria said.

"Big decisions?" Helen said to John.

He nodded. "Yeah. Trying to decide what will show the best for the crowd."

"I'm sure you'll do fine. You have good taste."

After a couple seconds of silence, Daria said, "So"

"Daria?" Helen said.

"Quinn's been planning what to wear ever since we got back from Ashfield. When are you going to start asking us about how we're going to look for the crowd?"

A lighthearted smirk formed on Helen's lips. "I'm sure that Quinn will have some advice for you, but then, she still hasn't learned the futility of pushing against an immovable object. You'll do fine, in your own way."

Temporarily befuddled by the compliment, Daria could only said, "Um, thanks."

"My pleasure," Helen said, still amused. "Now, hurry downstairs before your father decides to 'rescue' the lasagna."

* * *

After dinner, Daria stopped by her sister's room. She opened the door and leaned against the frame. "Okay, let's get it over with now."

Studying a spread of magazines on her bed, Quinn looked up and said, "Get what over?"

"Your suggestions on how to dress for the dance."

Quinn rolled her eyes and said, "Daria, you can be so clueless at times."

"Huh?"

"See what I mean?"

"No, I don't."

"I'm not going to give you fashion advice."

"What? Who are you and what did you do with my sister?"

Shaking her head, Quinn got off the bed and walked over to the door. "You're going to the ball with one of the _artists._"

"And"

"Artists and their dates are expected to dress for the show, not the ball."

"You're still losing me. What's the difference?"

"Okay, let me put this in words that a brain can understand," Quinn said, starting to enjoy teasing her sister.

Daria folder her arms. "Funny."

"Tom and I are going with the people that are paying a lot of money to charity for good PR and to see and be seen by others. We have to look perfect. You and John are going to show his art. You want people to see the art, not the artist."

"Okay, I get it," Daria admitted. "We get to dress down since we're basically staff."

"Let's say that artists are expected to look alternative."

"Alternative we can do."

* * *

Sandi scrutinized the coral-colored evening gown Quinn was wearing and said, "I really think that other gown looked better."

Quinn said, "So do I, but I don't have any good jewelry to go with it."

Sandi put her hands on her hips and said, "Then you just have to go out and buy some."

"I need real jewelry for the ball, not costume. Even I'm not going to push Mom's gold card that far. I'll have to get a dress that matches the good jewelry I already have."

"If you say so," Sandi said.

"I really like the color," Stacy said. "I say go with it."

"Yeah," Tiffany said. "Nobody wears coral the way you do."

Sandi glared at each and said, "Looks like everyone agrees with you, Quinn." The annoyance in her voice couldn't have been clearer.

* * *

As John and Daria prepared his paintings for travel, Helen came into his room and held out a set of car keys. "Use my SUV tonight. There will be more room to safely carry your paintings."

John didn't hesitate to grab the keys and say, "Thanks."

Daria said, "Don't want us to be seen in the blue bomb? There shouldn't be a problem, if you think about Tom's old car. Even we don't have a bumper held in place with duct tape."

Helen said, "Tom is one of the Sloanes and, let's be honest, he's allowed a little eccentricity that won't work for the two of you. I don't want you to waste time being questioned by rent-a-cops armed with tasers."

John said, "Yeah, tasers bad."

"Okay, high voltage, paralyzing shocks are never high on my to-do list. We'll take the SUV," Daria said.

"I thought you would be reasonable," Helen replied.

* * *

When he parked near the loading doors of the Lawndale Art Museum, John wasn't surprised when an off-duty Lawndale police officer walked up to the truck. The officer held a clipboard and said, "Name, please."

"John Lane," he answered. "I'm displaying some of my art tonight."

"Yes, sir." The officer checked off the name and then said, "Ma'am, you are?"

"Daria Morgendorffer. I'm here to help him."

"I don't seeoh, there it is. Someone misspelled it as Darius. You can park here to unload and then please move your vehicle to the main parking lot when you are done."

"Got it."

"Have a nice evening," the officer said before walking back to his station.

"Darius," Daria said, shaking her head. After an amused thought, she added, "Do you remember the security guard at Crewe Neck when we went to Brittany's party?"

"Oh yeah, you were on the list and I wasn't."

"I guess this shows that Lawndale police are at least slightly more competent that your average security guard."

"I feel safer already."

Inside, Kay Sloane warmly greeted them, saying, "John, Daria, I'm so glad you could make it. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your gallery for the evening."

"Thanks for the invite," John said. "This is a big chance for me."

"Encouraging the arts is the reason for the museum's existence."

"Anything more than that?" Daria asked.

"Now that you mention it," Kay said. "I wonder if I could get your opinion on something."

"Oh?" John said.

"Quinn. I'm trying to figure out her and Tom. They don't seem serious, but then they keep going out, so I'm never sure."

Daria said, "I think it's more of a mutual protection society. They both get to go on dates with no worry or stress and avoid having to go out with new or different people."

Kay gave Daria a wry smile and said, "I'd wondered. I can see that about Tom, but Quinn seems so outgoing"

"She acts shallow to keep people from seeing who she really is," John said. "I think she trusts Tom enough to relax around him."

Kay reached an empty gallery and said, "Here we are, and thank you. That's just what I needed to know."

John looked around the room with eyes that became distant and thoughtful. "I can work with this."

Daria reached over and gently pulled Kay from the room. "When he gets like that, just stay out of the way or he'll trip over you."

* * *

At the front entrance of the museum, the doorman bowed and said, "Welcome, Master Thomas." Rising, he said, "And a good evening to you, young lady. If I may, you look enchanting."

"Why, thank you," Quinn said, enjoying the doorman's manners and amused at Tom's discomfort with the formality.

Tom said, "Good evening, Mr. Constantine. I hope life is treating you well."

"As always, young Thomas. As always. Please, step inside. I believe your parents are waiting for you."

"I'm sure they are," Tom said. "We had better go to see them."

Tom led Quinn through the foyer and into the main hall of the museum. Formal dining tables with ice sculpture centerpieces filled the room as the high society of Lawndale and the surrounding area greeted each other and their families.

"This is really nice," Quinn said, honestly impressed with the elegant and tasteful display.

Tom chuckled and said, "Yeah, it's a bit classier than _Chez Pierre._"

"Oh, my God," Quinn said. "I can't believe I used to think that was such a great place."

"Price isn't everything." Tom pointed and said, "There they are."

Angier, Kay and Elsie Sloane were waiting at the table, along with fine crystal and silver settings for two more. Angier had his usual "Business Friendly" look about him, Kay was still as excited as she had been earlier with John and Daria, while Elsie mainly looked like she wished to be somewhere, anywhere, else. Kay rose and said, "Tom, Quinn, have a seat."

Angier politely nodded and said, "Hello."

Meanwhile, Elsie seemed to awaken from her slumber and said, "Hey."

After returning the greetings, Tom and Quinn sat down. Quinn whispered to Tom, "I hope I remember what fork is for what."

"Follow my lead, and be glad that they're not serving lobster this year," Tom whispered back.

* * *

Seated with Daria at a comfortable and more simply set table for two near the entrance to his gallery display, John craned his neck to look at the main hall and said, "I think we came out ahead on the deal with a private table for two. Eh, some would even call it romantic."

"Oh, instead of calling it, 'keeping the riffraff out of view?'" Daria jokingly said.

John straightened his back and said in a faux-haughty voice, "I prefer to think of us as staff, not riffraff."

"So the stable boy and the scullery maid get a table of their own. How quaint."

He shrugged. "I'll take it. Come on, even you have to admit the food's good."

"Very," she said. "I almost feel guilty since it's the same stuff they're serving out there."

"Guilty?"

"I said, almost," Daria corrected. "We only have a year before starting college and I need to get into the habit of never turning down free food."

John took a bite of his dinner and said, "That is a philosophy I can believe in."

* * *

"Hello, Tom," a pretty blonde said while stepping past Quinn as if she wasn't there.

Uncomfortable and annoyed, he said, "Hi, Melanie."

"It's nice to see you out and about like this instead of skulking around the little people."

"Ahem," Quinn sharply said.

"Melanie," Tom said, "I'd like you to meet my date tonight, Quinn."

She turned and said, "Oh, hello. I haven't seen you around Fielding or St. Swithun's. Are you a new exchange student?"

Quinn felt a Daria-like annoyance and answered in kind. "Im from Highland."

"Really?" Melanie said. "You don't even speak with an accent."

"Thank you, I've had a lot of practice."

"I can tell."

"And with a little practice, you might be able to pass as a local where I'm from in Texas." Quinn took Tom's arm, said, "If you will excuse us," and led him away.

"Thanks for the save," Tom whispered.

"Skulking around with the little people," Quinn fumed. "If it wasn't a crime against fashion to damage a Sammi Rudolph gown, I'd haveoooh."

"I'd say you got her pretty good," Tom said. "On an intellectual level."

Quinn stopped, smiled and said, "I did, didn't I?"

* * *

An older gentleman with a ring of white hair around his bald head inspected one of John's paintings and then turned to Kay Sloane. "I agree. Why don't we take it before the board this evening, since we're all here?"

Carrying two sodas, John came back into the gallery and stopped beside Daria. "Here you go. I ran into Quinn out there and from what Tom said, it sounds like you've been rubbing off on your sister."

"Oh?"

"Just a little verbal fencing with an unarmed victim."

"There may be hope for her yet."

John noticed the man and said, "What's up with the guy next to Mrs. Sloane?"

"He's Mr. Loudon, the head of the acquisitions committee, and he thinks they should buy it."

"So you mean I'm getting something more than free food and drink out of this?"

"If four out of five members agree. You've got two already, so"

"We need to make sure we don't say the wrong thing to the wrong three people. Who are the others?"

"Um, I don't know."

* * *

"That's what I get for drinking three glasses of soda," Daria grumbled. The nearest restroom was across the main hall from John's gallery, so Daria had to venture out past the refreshments table and through the well-dressed crowd to reach it.

A part of Daria noted that the standard of attire was elegant and, by a vast majority, in excellent taste. She thought it was a pleasant change of pace from what usually passed as fashionable at Lawndale High. Also, a small part of her felt underdressed, though she was wearing one of the nice dresses that Quinn had convinced her to buy for special occasions. She saw Quinn and gave her sister a small wave while noting that she had chosen well for her dress, and further realizing that Quinn's fashion sense had shifted some over the summer to something more mature.

A young man of perhaps eighteen or nineteen stepped up beside Daria and said, "May I interest you in the next dance?"

"Um, me?"

"Well, yes, unless you have an invisible twin."

Daria faintly smiled and said, "No, I don't."

"So, may I interest you in the next dance?"

"Sorry," she said, "but I'm here with my boyfriend. His work is in the gallery across the hall."

The man sighed and said, "Shoot. All the cute ones are taken or chasing after the hot dates."

"Hopefully, not all," Daria said, trying to be somewhat helpful.

"Thanks." He looked toward John's gallery. "You're with that guy?"

"Yes."

"He has some interesting stuff. I mean interesting in a good way and not the usual style for this place."

She felt a smile form because of the remark. "I'll tell him you said that. Some of the reactions have been less than encouraging."

"That's just the old school members being themselves. The rest of the board members have at least entered the nineteenth century."

"That explains a few things." Daria motioned to the restroom door and said, "Excuse me."

"Oh, sure," he said and faded back into the crowd.

Entering the restroom, she thought, _I have to admit that they have better manners around here than at Lawndale High._

* * *

Quinn and Tom stopped at the gallery and Quinn fell back against the wall. Embarrassed, Tom said, "Im sorry for the complete lack of manners you've had to deal with tonight."

"What's going on?" Quinn said. "Some kind of contest to see who can grab you first?"

Daria went over to Quinn and said, "Are you okay?"

"Im beat," Quinn replied. "They're like sharks out there. You'd better keep John close or they'll be all over him, too."

Tom slowly shook his head. "He's probably safe. Among the Muffys, they compete for what they consider high value dates. Usually based on what a guy's family is worth. Regrettably, I'm in the top bracket and John is"

"Substandard, but I can live with that," John joked. "Why don't you hang out here with the crazy artist and his girl? That should keep the sharks at bay for while."

Daria looked at John, back at Quinn and then John again. "Oh no, you've got an idea fermenting in that head of yours."

"Never let inspiration get away."

* * *

Watching a middle-aged man examine the painting that Mrs. Sloane and Mr. Loudon had discussed earlier, John whispered to Tom, "Out of curiosity, is that guy on the acquisitions committee?"

"Yes, it's Mr. Vilano. Why?"

"Your mother and Mr. Loudon were discussing buying it earlier tonight."

Tom rubbed his forehead. "Don't count on his vote. He doesn't consider anything that smacks of that 'newfangled abstract stuff' to be art."

"Great. That means I have to get the vote of the other two. Can you point them out?"

"Uh, oh," Tom said.

"What?"

"There they are right now, the Hamptons."

"Is that a problem?"

"Not them exactly, but, um, their daughter"

"Is one of those that hit on you earlier."

Daria said, "Let me guess, she's the kind to hold a grudge and knows how to manipulate her parents."

"Yep. Let's hopedamn."

Melanie joined her parents from among the crowd and followed them into the gallery. She saw Tom and Quinn and an evil smile formed on her lips.

"That's her," Quinn said.

"I'm sunk," John said. "Oh well, at least I got free food and I think a few contacts out of the deal."

* * *

Having saved it for last, John took down the painting he'd hoped to sell and said, "Could've been better, but not a really bad night."

"I'm sorry," Quinn said.

"You couldn't know," Daria said. "Besides, I'm proud of how you handled her, my apprentice."

"It felt good," Quinn said. "But"

"Look," John said. "Personal snits and other stuff are common as hell in the art world. It's not your fault the parents listened to their bratty kid."

"But sometimes, we'll listen to our other child," a man's voice said. Mr. and Mrs. Hampton stood behind them, along with the young man that had asked Daria for a dance earlier. Mr. Hampton said, "Our son tells us that your lady friend was very charming and pleasant and that your art is fascinating."

Tom said, "I didn't know you were back in town from Crestmore, Raymond."

"Only for the weekend," Raymond said. "I see that you've caught the fancy of the young lady's sister. The family resemblance is unmistakable."

"We're friends," Tom said.

"If you say so."

Angier and Kay Sloane arrived in the gallery, along with Mr. Loudon. The latter came up to John and shook his hand. "The committee has agreed to the purchase."

John couldn't speak for several seconds. Overcoming his shock, he said, "Um...cool." Inside, he thought, _God, that sounded just like my brother._

Kay produced a check from her purse and said, "The committee also found your asking price acceptable."

John took the check and stared at the amount that he'd thrown out more as a lark than a real price. "It's been nice doing business with you."

* * *

While the family ate breakfast the next morning, John rested his cheek on one hand and stared at his breakfast bowl. "I should've kept my mouth shut."

"Now, John," Helen said, lifting her coffee cup. "You'll appreciate having that money set aside for when you're in college."

"You'd have only blown it on paint and canvas, instead of something important like pizza," Daria said. "Art junkie."

"Hey, John!" Jake said, folding the paper and turning it toward the teen. "You're in the paper."

Quinn looked and said, "Since when do you read the society page, Dad?"

"It's a great place to find contacts!"

"You made it into the paper; that's great. We'll need to keep a clipping for your college applications," Helen said.

"That's nice. I see the picture of John and Daria. What does it say about me?"

Jake read silently and then said, "Sorry, Quinn."

She looked again, failed to find any mention and sat down. "Daria, if you had the slightest amount of fashion sense, you'd be dangerous."

* * *

Some dialog from _Is It Fall Yet?_ by Glenn Eichler and Peggy Nicoll

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.

April-May 2009


	41. Friends and Rediscovery

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
This is the forty-first John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Friends and Rediscovery**

Over dinner with the rest of her family, Quinn said, "And the doctor said Sandi's leg will be in a cast for at least a month. Poor Sandi, crutches don't go with anything."

Daria said, "That's the same thing those land mine victims are always complaining about."

"Come on," John said. "A little paint, maybe some pinstripes, and she can have some cool-looking crutches."

"Voice of experience?" Daria said.

"Yeah, I broke my leg when I was eight." John then said to Quinn, "You know, casts also make a great canvas."

"Only you," Quinn said.

"Hey, never pass up the opportunity for art."

"A new opportunity for art?" Helen said, perking up. "What kind, John?"

"Mo-om!" Quinn said. "We were talking about Sandi."

Jake dramatically dropped the newspaper he was reading. "Dammit! This article says restaurants won't serve meat rare anymore! Some crap about gastroenterological disorders."

"You remember that experiment with _steak tartare_ that you and John tried, don't you?" Daria said.

Jake lowered his hand to his stomach. "Oh, um, yeah."

John said, "Okay, it was a little off, but it wasn't our fault."

Quinn loudly said, "Isn't anybody listening?"

Helen said, "Tell us some more about Stacy."

"Sandi!"

"Sandi," Helen said, embarrassed. "Go on."

"Like I was saying, crutches don't go with anything."

"Now, Quinn, plenty of people survive being on crutches without permanent damage to their social standing."

Quinn gave her mother an exasperated look. "Mom, we're talking about a whole month."

Helen glanced at Daria and muttered, "That which does not destroy us"

* * *

  
Sweaty from his afternoon run, John came into the house carrying the mail. He rounded the corner and found Jake in the kitchen, mixing something in a large bowl.

John held up a small package and said, "You got another one of your John Wayne quarters."

"Great!" Jake said, dropping two mixing spoons into the bowl and grabbing the package.

While Jake was opening it, John looked in the bowl. "Um, Jake. Are you trying _steak tartare_ again?"

"Yeah. I got a hankering for it the other night."

"Please tell me you didn't get the beef from Butcher Bob's Bountiful Beef Bonanza."

"They're a client!"

"That's where we got the beef last time."

Jake got the coin out of the box and said, "_Rio Bravo_! I'll going to put this one up next to _Rio Lobo_." Looking closer, he added, "Huh? Looks a little like _Rio Grande_."

John picked up the bowl and said, "So John Wayne had a river fetish. Why don't we just keep the seasonings and stir-fry the meat to be on the safe side."

Distracted by the coin, Jake wandered out of the kitchen. "Sure, John."

John shook his head and pulled a large skillet from the cupboard. "At least he didn't drop it in the food."

* * *

  
"That smells good," Helen said when she arrived.

"Just a quick stir-fry," John said. "The mail's on the counter."

Helen picked it up and started to sift through it. "Oh, that's interesting."

"Hmm?"

"Something for Daria and Quinn."

From the sofa, Daria said, "What's that, Mom?"

"You have a letter from Camp Grizzly."

"Tell them I'm a little too old to attend."

Helen walked over and gave the letter to Daria. "I'm curious."

Daria sighed and opened it. "Wonderful. They're having a five-year reunion next weekend."

"Kind of short notice for a trip to Texas, don't you think?" John said.

"Oh, Camp Grizzly is only a couple hours away in Virginia," Helen said.

"Let me get this straight. You sent Daria and Quinn to summer camp halfway across the country? Now, that's what I call getting away from the kids for a couple weeks."

Helen said, "Jake and I used the chance to visit my mother while the girls were at camp."

"From the looks on their faces when Mom and Dad picked us up, they had about as much fun as I did," Daria said.

"Daria," Helen warned.

Quinn came in and said, "Did I hear something about Camp Grizzly?"

Helen handed over the letter. "Here's your invitation."

After reading, Quinn said, "I can't wait to go, see my old friends and remember what it was like to be just girls together. Things were so innocent and simple way back then."

Daria said, "All the more reason not to go."

Helen said, "In that case, your father and I can use your help cleaning out the garage."

"I get the hint," Daria said. "What about John?"

"Yeah, what about me?"

"I'm sure that the camp wouldn't mind if you tagged along," Helen said.

John took dinner off the stovetop and said, "What can it hurt? Besides, I never went to summer camp."

* * *

  
Helen answered the door and said, "Oh, hello, Trent," when she saw him there.

"Hey, Mrs. M.," he said. "John around?"

"He's upstairs; come in."

After Helen closed the door, Trent said, "I hope I'm not disturbing anything."

"Nothing more than the usual household drama."

"Huh?"

Leading the way up the stairs, she said, "Quinn's worried about her friend Sandi, who broke her leg and is too embarrassed to go to school. I can't believe that Linda is letting her get away with that."

"Uh"

"She and Daria are going to a five-year reunion of their old summer camp next weekend, which, of course, Daria does not want to attend."

"Uh"

"So as a concession, John's going along so that she doesn't spend the entire weekend with her head stuck in a book ignoring everyone."

"Uh"

"But I'm a little concerned about sending three teenagers on a road trip by themselves. An adult presence might be a good idea."

"Uh"

"Not that I don't trust John and Daria, it's that there are so many people out there that would take advantage of a group of kids that wouldn't consider trying something if an adult was along."

"Uh"

"So would it be possible for you to go along with them?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

"Excellent. Thank you, Trent," Helen said as they reached John's room.

Hearing them, John looked over from his easel and said, "What did you just get talked into?"

"Uh"

Helen said, "He's going along with you, Daria and Quinn to Camp Grizzly. Not that you need supervision or anything, but just in case anything happens."

John suppressed a laugh at the idea of Trent providing any kind of effective supervision. "Sounds good. So, Trent, what brings you over here, anyway?"

"Oh, uh, I was going to ask if I could crash here over the weekend. You know, get away from it all."

"Don't you have a gig this weekend?"

"Mystik Spiral's taking a break."

"In other words, the band had another round of 'creative differences' and all of you need to cool your heels for a few days."

Trent scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, something like that."

* * *

  
Quinn sat on the floor in her room along with Tiffany and Stacy. On the speakerphone, Sandi said, "We must maintain the Fashion Club standards, even when one of us is temporarily disfigured."

Quinn said, "Sandi, you're not really disfigured. You just need a little help getting around."

"I'll be the judge of how badly these crutches clash with my entire wardrobe, thank you very much."

"I mean" Quinn started to say before giving up. "Oh, nothing."

"Good. Now, what are everyone's plans for this weekend? You need to put up a good appearance to make up for my absence. Stacy?"

"I have a date with Ronald."

"Excellent. Tiffany?"

"I'm going out with Josh," Tiffany slowly drawled.

"Quinn?"

"Um, I'm going to that camp reunion I told you about."

"If you must," Sandi said. "You have to set your priorities."

* * *

  
Sitting in the front seat of the old blue bomber while Trent drove, Quinn said, "Why did you have to bring this dog?"

The animal in question was a black bull terrier/cocker spaniel mix that was occupying the floorboard in front of Quinn and panting.

"He gets real grumpy if you leave him alone all weekend," Trent said.

Daria said, "Wouldn't Axl stop by and say, 'hi,' to Damien? After all, it's supposed to be his guard dog."

"Axl went to TattooCon. Be back on Tuesday."

"So we're stuck with the dog," John said.

Daria said, "Trent, is he housebroken yet?"

"Mostly."

Quinn looked down at the floor and said, "Ewww."

* * *

  
When John pulled the car into the unpaved parking lot of a small country store, Quinn said, "Why are we stopping now? Camp Grizzly's right down the road."

"I wanna grab a bite to eat," John said. "The camp's feeding you two, but I'm not betting on them wanting to feed me and Trent."

Daria faintly smiled at the building and said, "I don't mind stopping."

"Whatever. Just hurry back, okay? He snores," Quinn said, pointing to Trent asleep on the other side of the back seat.

John said, "I figured you'd like the chance to get out and stretch so that you won't be so stiff when we get to Camp Grizzly. Not even you can make stiff walking look fashionable."

Quinn grumbled, "Okay, okay. You win."

Trent muttered, "She said it was a sousaphone."

Seeing the confused look on Quinn's face, John said, "Don't ask. Don't wonder. Don't remember."

They left Trent in the car and proceeded inside. Daria looked around at the rustic wooden shelves and said, "It hasn't changed."

"What do you mean?" Quinn said. "We were never here."

"You were never here," Daria said.

A friendly-looking man entered through a Dutch door, stood behind the counter and said, "Good morning. What can I do for you today?"

"Looking for something to munch on," John said, going to a shelf of chips and assorted other snack food.

"Hello, Earl," Daria said to him.

He tilted his head and said, "You look familiar."

Daria held out her hand. "I was about this high five years ago."

"Now I remember. You got lost hiking from Camp Grizzly. You must be here for the reunion."

Daria nodded. "Not something I'm particularly looking forward to, but it's better than the alternative."

A matronly woman entered through a door behind the counter and said, "Hello."

Earl said, "Barbara, do you remember Daria? She was at Camp Grizzly five years ago."

"Oh yes, you were such a sweet little girl."

Daria's rapid glance made John hide the smirk forming on his face. Instead, he focused on a rack of individually wrapped cookies. "How much are these?"

"We usually charge the tourists passing through two dollars, but you can have them for a dollar each," Earl said.

_A bit pricey, but hey, it's food._. John grabbed two and added them to his stack before placing it on the counter. _I bet that they sell the tourists a bunch of 'country wisdom' to go along with the cookies._

* * *

  
Daria said, "I had to wonder what it would take for them to notice that I was missing, me being trapped in a hidden cave by an earthquake?"

Earl chuckled and said, "Do you still write your stories?"

"Yes, and John's even done some illustrations for them."

"How nice. I think you've got a keeper there," Barbara said.

"So far," Daria said.

Still collecting food, John said, "I'm right over here, you know."

"Don't worry, she hasn't forgotten about you. She's showing you off," Quinn said with a wink.

Barbara laughed at that and said, "I can tell that she's your sister."

"We've, um, grown a bit since the last time I was here," Daria said.

John added his remaining items to the stack on the counter and said, "There, I'm ready."

Earl started to ring up the purchases on an old mechanical cash register. "You've got a pretty good appetite there. Must still be growing."

"I also need to feed my brother. He's in the car, seeking inspiration."

Earl leaned over a bit to peer out of the window. "It looks like he's asleep."

"Like I said."

After Earl completed the transaction and Barbara had put everything in a second-hand paper bag, he said, "Have a good day. It's been nice meeting you again, Daria."

"Please come back and see us again when you can," Barbara said.

"It's been nice seeing you," Daria said. "I don't know when, but I hope I can make it back."

* * *

  
When John tossed a bag of food onto his lap, Trent grunted and sleepily said, "Wha?"

John said, "Food. Sustenance. Munchies."

"Cool," Trent said, opening the bag and looking in. "Man, I love cookies."

"Simple pleasures for a simple man," Daria said as she got behind the steering wheel.

"Simple pleasures," Trent said before biting into a cookie. "Hmm, that's a gift of food. Hey, 'simple gifts.' Sounds like a song."

"It's been done," Daria said as she started the car.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Bummer."

Damien barked and sniffed at Trent's bag. John opened another small paper bag and tossed the dog some beef jerky. "I wouldn't leave you out, little guy."

Damien snapped the dried meat out of the air and enthusiastically chewed on it like a toy.

When everyone had settled in and Daria pulled away from the store, Quinn said, "So, Daria. How much are you going to show off John at camp?"

"I'm not showing him off," Daria said. "He's along for amoral support."

Trent lightly laughed.

"You, too?"

"Hey, I'm a musician. I can tell when people are into each other."

Quinn snorted and said, "Anybody can tell that they're into each other."

Damien poked his head up and barked.

"See?" Trent said and closed his eyes again.

"He wants more jerky," John said, tossing another piece to the back seat.

Quinn alternately looked between the dog and Trent before shaking her head.

John said, "Don't try to understand my brother's reasoning. It'll only lead to madness."

* * *

  
When Daria pulled into a parking space and stopped the car, she looked around and said, "It looks like even the mold hasn't changed."

John looked over the seat back and said, "Quinn, you survived this place?"

"It was a challenge, but with good friends, we rose to the occasion. Speaking of them, there they are. Excuse me."

Quinn hurried out of the car and went over to where three girls were standing, looking the other direction. "Tracy, Cindy, Tatiana! It's so good to see you!"

The three girls turned and each exclaimed, "Quinn!" before joining in a group hug and then going off toward the camp center.

Watching them leave, John said, "They always travel in packs of four, don't they?"

Daria said, "Yep."

John and Daria got out of the car and she said, "What about Trent?"

"I figure we can leave him there."

"We can't do that. It wouldn't be fair to the dog."

"Yeah, cars get hot and stuff. We'd better wake him back up."

Daria said, "We can put Trent under a nice shade tree and tie the leash to his wrist."

"Works for me."

While they were doing that, a freckled girl with square glasses approached and said, "Daria? Is that you?"

Daria turned and unenthusiastically said, "Hi, Amelia."

Amelia said, "Thank God! I was afraid you weren't coming, and then there would be no reason for me to come, because I wouldn't have anyone to talk to. What's new?"

"Well," Daria said. "We moved out of Highland and, um, I have a boyfriend. That's him around the other side of the car. John, say hello."

John looked over the car roof and waved, saying, "Hi," before going back to pulling Trent out of the back seat.

"Um, hi," Amelia said, and then whispered to Daria, "Does he have a brother?"

"Hey, I'm coming," Trent said as he emerged. "Whoa, this is like, out in the woods."

Daria said, "That would be a yes. His name's Trent."

Amelia's eyes brightened. "Hi, Trent. I'm Amelia."

"Um, hey," Trent said.

John said, "First Earl and Barbara at the store and now Amelia. Sounds like you had a nice little fan club here."

Before Daria replied, a young man in his twenties bounced up and started to hand out t-shirts from a stack held under one arm. "Hey, Grizzlies! Skip Stevens, Alumni Coordinator. Grab a Grizzly t-shirt."

Daria held one with her fingertips, thinking that now she understood Quinn's reaction to polyester leg warmers.

John took one and shrugged.

Trent sniffed it and said, "Cool, it's clean."

Amelia absently took one and held it loosely in her hand.

John picked up Damien's leash and said, "Come on, Trent. Let's find a nice spot for you to get inspired."

"You always know how I think, Johnny," Trent said as he followed John toward the deep shade of a canopied oak tree.

Daria waved her hand in front of Amelia. "Hey, are you there?"

Taking her attention away from Trent, she said, "Oh, yeah, Daria."

Daria glanced over at the brothers and said, "Oh, boy."

* * *

  
The campers slowly gathered around the dining hall porch, where a balding, middle-aged man stood with Skip.

The man said into a microphone, "Before we begin our hike" Not certain, he looked at Skip. "Is this thing on? Hello?"

Skip cheerfully said, "It's on, Mr. Potts!"

"Thank you, Skip."

"No, thank you, Mr. Potts!"

Mr. Potts sighed and said with little enthusiasm, "We're real glad to see all these former Grizzlies at the reunion. And, when the time comes that you have cubs of your own, we hope they'll be proud to say, 'I'm a Grizzly, grr.'" He faintly laughed and asked, "Everyone ready for a hike?"

Less than excited muttering came from the gathered crowd.

Skip shouted, "He said, 'Is everyone ready for a hike?'"

The muttering was a little louder, but with no more excitement.

John said, "Was everyone this enthusiastic five years ago?"

"Some things never change," Daria said.

Amelia said, "John, do you think your brother will want to go on a hike?"

John looked over at Trent, still snoozing under the tree. "If Trent ever goes on a hike, put your hands on your knees and kiss your ass goodbye because the world's about to end."

Daria wandered over to a table near Trent and took a seat. "I'll hold down the fort until they return."

Amelia joined her and said, "You were always so funny."

John sat down next to Daria and said, "I think she is."

"I'm not doing standup," Daria warned.

"I'm waiting for him to stand up," Amelia said, nodding toward Trent.

* * *

  
Laughing, Amelia said, "And everyone was so scared, you couldn't hear a sound when she finished. Daria was such a good storyteller."

"So good that everyone in the cabin made me sleep on the porch that night because they were afraid," Daria said. "I was covered with mosquito bites the next morning."

"Oh, I forgot about that," Amelia said.

John said, "Daria, I can see why you thought this place sucked. Mosquito bites, stitches, lost glasses, greasy watermelonsI'd have been almost tempted to stay home and help clean out the garage."

"I was, but the risk of Mom and Dad getting distracted while cleaning the garage was too great," Daria said. "Therefore, I chose the lesser evil."

Seemingly oblivious to what had just been said, Amelia changed the subject. "So, what's the story, Daria? How'd you get a cute guy like this?"

Daria lightly smiled and said, "It's a little long."

"I'm right here," John said.

"That's okay," Amelia said. "Then you can tell me about Trent."

John looked over to watch Damien insistently nudging Trent. When Trent finally snorted and shifted a bit, the dog relaxed and settled back down. John said, "We have the dog along to help keep an eye on Trent."

In the distance, they could hear Skip say, "We're almost back, Grizzlies! Wasn't that fun?" After silence, he repeated, "Wasn't that fun?" Maybe a slight murmur could be heard after that, and then he said, "Take a break and get ready for a lunch of the best Grizzly Burgers you've ever had."

"Grizzly burgers," Daria said. "More like road kill."

* * *

  
Cooking over a large grill, Skip said, "Get your Grizzly Burgers. Rare, medium, but always well-done."

Carrying plates with hamburger buns already on them, John, Daria and Amelia walked over. Daria speared a burger with her fork and placed it on her plate.

Skip said, "Hey! What are you doing?"

Daria replied, "Taking down the weakest burger in the herd, thus following the laws of natural selection."

"No one takes a burger until I say so." With exaggerated self-importance, Skip said, "Ive got a whole system here. Its all timed to perfection."

"I didnt realize that cooking burgers was as complicated as astrophysics."

Skip used his spatula to take the burger from Daria.

When he tried to put it back on the grill, John nabbed it with his fork and returned it to Daria's plate. "You said, 'so,' when you called us over here." Without waiting, he used the fork to get burgers for himself, Amelia and Trent.

Skip said, "You can't do that!"

"Yes, I can."

John, Daria and Amelia walked away while Skip sputtered in frustration and the other campers snickered at him.

Amelia said, "Aren't you afraid to get in trouble?"

"What's he going to do? Throw me out of camp?"

"Umyou know, you didn't go to this camp."

"But I never pass up free food."

Daria said, "Thanks for saving my burger."

"I was a little surprised I had to," John said. "Usually, you're not that quiet about things. Come to think of it, you've been fairly quiet around this Skip guy since we got here. You gripe about him, but haven't really stood up to him."

Daria sat down at their table and quietly said, "It's hard for a seventy-five pound, twelve-year old girl to directly stand up to someone like Skip."

"But you always had something funny to say about him," Amelia said.

"And I paid for it each time he heard me."

Amelia looked down at her plate and said, "You really didn't have a good time here at all, did you?"

"No."

"Oh." Amelia stood and picked up the extra plate. "I'm going to take this over to Trent."

"Amelia," Daria said, raising her hand.

John gently lowered it and said, "She had to learn sometime."

Damien had wrapped his long leash around Trent and the tree and was sniffing the air when Amelia approached. She squatted while holding the burger high in the air away from the dog and said, "Trent, it's lunch time."

Trent rolled against the leash and then barely opened his eyes to look at what was holding him down. "Kinky. Cool."

"What?" Amelia said.

"Gonna wear the purple leather thing, too?"

Amelia dropped the plate in shock and backed away from Trent. Damien wasted no time in eating the burger and then lapping the remains off of Trent's shirt.

Trent, his eyes closed again, said, "Cool."

Seeing Amelia's escape, John said, "It looks like another embarrassing Trent _non sequitur_."

* * *

  
While Skip prattled about his camp memories from a cabin porch, Daria ignored her lunch and watched Amelia, who was leaning against a tree, gazing at the nearby lake. Daria said, "I screwed up, didn't I?"

Trying to be tactful, John said, "I think Amelia has a lot of baggage."

"Don't we all?"

Dejected, Quinn dropped down onto the bench next to Daria and said, "So much for girlish bonding with old friends."

"You, too?" Daria said.

"I thought things would go differently."

John asked, "Did your friends change that much on you?"

"No, they didn't change at all."

John scratched the back of his head like his brother and said, "Huh?"

"I guess I've changed more than I thought. Kind of like you, Daria."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

Daria stood and said, "Yeah, I have. Excuse me."

Quinn asked John, "Where's she going?" as Daria walked away.

"I think she's dealing with her girlish bonding."

Quinn followed John's direction and said, "Oh, Amelia."

"You remember her?"

"Yeah." Lowering her voice, Quinn said, "Everyone called her, 'The other weird kid.' Skip was almost as hard on her as he was on Daria and said that they didn't have enough camp spirit."

"Hard? How?"

"Yelling, looking the other way when campers did things to them, not inviting Daria to the End-of-Summer campfire, giving Daria the skittish horse, stuff like that."

"What a jerk."

"Yeah."

Daria went to the other side of the tree from Amelia, leaned against it and said, "When it comes to interpersonal relations, I can be a little dense."

"A little," Amelia said.

"Being around me was the only thing you found good about camp, right?"

Amelia weakly nodded in reply.

"You were the only person in camp that was nice to me and I was so determined to be miserable that I missed it. I'm sorry."

"I read too much into what you did," Amelia said. "Im sorry that I forgot about the stitches when you were thrown off of that horse."

"Hey!" Skip called. "The fun's over here!" After Daria and Amelia ignored him, he said, "Oh yeah, you two are the weird kids who don't want to have fun!"

Quinn stood up and screamed, "Shut up, you jerk!"

Stunned, Skip said, "What?"

Quinn charged over to the porch and took the microphone from Skip. "I said, 'Shut up, you jerk!'"

Scattered applause rose from the campers. Daria turned and said, "Oh, boy."

"What's she doing?" Amelia asked.

"Acting like my sister."

Quinn said, "You teased them the whole time we were here."

Skip straightened up and said, "Camp builds character and"

"Camp was just like middle school, only with you instead of teachers," Quinn said. "You know, just like the teachers, I don't think anyone liked you, either."

The campers loudly yelled and clapped in agreement.

"Just leave them alone and just leave all of us alone! We don't want to hear any more of your Grizzly stories, or wear your stupid shirt or even look at you."

Skip said, "Mr. Potts, make her stop!"

Mr. Potts shook his head and sadly said, "Skip, lighten up and stop making this your life. This is a summer camp. Parents send their kids here for a couple weeks so that they can get laid without interruption."

Amelia said, "Wow, she really likes you."

"Though she'll make me swear not to repeat a word of this to her friends," Daria said. "I have an idea."

"Okay."

Daria held out her hand and said, "Hi, I'm Daria."

Amelia shook it and said, "Hi, I'm Amelia."

* * *

  
A girl walked past where Daria, John and Amelia were standing and said, "Wow, I never knew your sister was so dedicated."

"Leave it to Quinn to make herself the most popular," John said.

Daria said, "You have to admire her skill, even if you find it disturbing."

Noting Tracy, Cindy, and Tatiana stalking around the edge of the campers, John said, "She's not popular with everyone."

Pulled by Damien on his leash, Trent walked toward them, humming a tune.

Amelia carefully said, "Hi."

Trent sang, "The ties that bind aren't the ones you find. Yeah."

Amelia blushed and said, "Um, interesting song."

"Made it up while I was sleeping."

"You make up all your songs while sleeping," John said.

"It's when I do my best work." Trent sniffed and said, "Man, I smell burgers."

"Sorry, too late," Daria said. "They're all gone."

"Bummer, I was going to get one for Damien, too."

Quinn separated from a group of campers and came over. "I think I've had enough fun for one day. Are we ready to go?"

Daria said, "Do you mind if we stay a little while longer? I want to spend more time catching up on things with Amelia. It's something friends do."

* * *

  
When he opened the front door and stepped inside the Morgendorffer home, John said, "Hey, we're home."

Helen and Jake were cuddled together on the sofa and she said, "Hi, kids. How was your trip?"

Daria whispered, "They've been at it again and who knows where." Out loud, she said, "Hi, Mom, Dad. We're kind of beat and will be down later after we rest." Whispering again, she said, "Let's get out of here and remember, don't touch anything. We don't know where they've been."

Quinn said, "You know, I thought of something that I really need to do. I'll be back later."

"Sure thing, Quinn," Jake said in a cheerful voice.

John said, "Later, Quinn."

Upstairs, John said, "Well, what's the verdict? As bad as you thought?"

"No," Daria said. "I managed to rediscover some good friends."

* * *

  
Sandi Griffin lay on her bed, reading a fashion magazine and nibbling on a piece of chocolate. Hearing who she thought was one of her brothers at the bedroom door, Sandi said, "Go away, you brat."

Quinn opened the door and said, "Usually it's my sister that calls me that."

"Quinn!" Sandi said, trying to hide her cast under a blanket, as well as the box of chocolate. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm going to help you figure out a way to make a cast fashionable so you don't have to hide from everyone." Quinn gave her a warm smile and said, "It's something friends do."

* * *

  
Some dialog from _Fat Like Me_ by Peggy Nicoll and _Camp Fear_ by Jonathan Greenberg

More on Barbara and Earl can be found in Kristen Bealer's story, _Country Wisdom_

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.  
June-July 2009


	42. Legally Halloween

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the forty-second John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Legally Halloween**

John reclined on his bed and repeatedly tossed a small sketch pad into the air and then caught it. "Come on, Daria. This'll be our last chance. Next year, we'll be in college."

Looking out the window at the fall foliage, Daria said, "Don't give me that. If anything, there will be even more chances then."

"It'll be fun. And don't say that you don't do fun. I know better and Halloween is all about fun."

"Yeah, and I'm sure you already have something in mind for us to wear."

"Wellkind of. At least for me."

"And?"

"Okay, I know what I'd like for you to wear, but"

"But?"

John set the sketch pad aside and held up his hands. "I'm not stupid enough to say it out loud. Keeping all of my body parts attached is a personal priority."

After a chuckle, Daria sighed and said, "I'll think about it." When John grinned, she said, "Think about it."

"Think about it. Check."

"Good."

John said, "You know, Brittany always has high quality junk food at her parties. Free junk food."

"You're evil," Daria said.

"Think of the column ideas you could get."

"You want to sketch people."

"And watch our fellow students act even stranger when they think that nobody knows who they are? You bet I do."

"You're very evil."

"Flattery will get you a lot of places, but I'm trying to convince you to go, remember?"

"You're not doing a very good job."

John decided to use his last gambit. "If we stay home, you know your mother will put us to work handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters. Do you want to spend the night dealing with an endless stream of sugared-up kids?"

"Okay, you win. We'll go to Brittany's party." Daria looked at him and said, "But to warn you, there's as much chance of me wearing an Emma Peel catsuit as there is of you wearing one."

"Damn."

* * *

  
The Fashion Club had gathered in Sandi's bedroom and all were listening intently as she said, "Brittany's Halloween party is a golden opportunity for us to show that proper fashion sense does not have to clash with creative costuming."

"I know," Stacy said. "What is with all that blood and icky stuff?"

"Eww," Tiffany said. "And costumes make a lot of people look fat."

"We're going to have to coordinate everything carefully," Quinn said.

"We can do a theme!" Stacy said. "Like Buffy the Vampire Slayer."

"Yeah, Buffy," Tiffany said.

"Nice try," Sandi said. "But I don't think so. I would have to be Buffy and I don't do wooden stakes. Quinn would be passable as Cordelia and you might work as Willow."

"Willow?" Stacy said, panicked. "ButI can't be a computer-geek witch."

"See what I mean?" Sandi said. "We'll have to think of something else."

Quinn leaned back and thought, _Hmm, Buffy_

Sandi shifted and flexed her leg, still stiff from the recently removed cast. "Quinn, did you say something?"

"No, Sandi, I was just thinking," Quinn replied. Coming up with a quick diversion, she said, "What about going as the Allspice Girls?"

Sandi shook her head. "After what they wore on their last concert tour?"

"Good point," Quinn said. "Scratch that. Hey, Tiffany. Do you have an idea?"

"We can go as the Fashion Club."

"Tiffany," Sandi said. "We are the Fashion Club, remember?"

"Then finding something to wear will be easy."

"That's not how it works," Sandi said.

"Maybe it will be easier if we come up with our own costumes," Quinn said.

"I like that idea," Stacy said, abandoning her earlier suggestion. "Then we can coordinate everything later in the week."

"Maybe I can go as you, Sandi," Tiffany said.

"No, you're not going as me, Tiffany. Everyone, I'm making an executive decision. We'll go with Quinn's plan." Sandi rubbed her forehead and said, "It'll be easier that way."

* * *

**From: James A. Vitale To: All Staff**

**Subject: Halloween Party**

**All partners, associates, staff, and their families are cordially invited to the firm's Halloween party at the Hamptonshire Country Club. Festivities will begin Saturday at 7:00 PM. Costumes are heartily encouraged and prizes will be awarded.**

**James A. Vitale, Esq.  
Senior Partner  
Vitale, Horowitz, Riordan, Schrecter, Schrecter and Schrecter  
Attorneys at Law**

Reading the e-mail on her office computer, Helen thought, _Cordially invited, my ass. Daria would say that this is as voluntary as one of Ms. Li's assemblies. Once I become a partner, this had better be worth it._

She started to compose her acceptance. _John will see this as another way to be creative, so he's really not much of a problem. Quinn will have to reschedule something or another; she always does. DariaGod, I wonder what it's going to cost me this time._ She hit "send" and had one more thought, _At least with Jake wearing a costume, it might be easier to get someone to talk to him._

* * *

  
When he heard the news, Jake almost bounced off of his dining room chair. "Costume party? What a great idea!"

_That was the easy one,_ Helen thought as she watched the others around the table.

"But Mo-om, I'm going to Brittany's party that night," Quinn said. "The Fashion Club has already had one meeting on coordinating our costumes."

_One event to reschedule. Can I call them or what?_

Daria said, "Why don't you do both? After the first hour, all of the partners will be plastered and won't have a clue about who stuck around, anyway."

"Great!" Quinn said.

Helen looked from Quinn to Daria and then back. "I have to admit that she's right. Stay for at least an hour at the company party, and then you're free to go. What about you, Daria? What's this going to cost me?"

Daria glanced at John. "Um, to be honest, I was hoping to use the same excuse. John already talked me into going to Brittany's party, too. He's got something in mind and if I don't let him get it out, he'll be grumpy for a week."

John shrugged and swallowed a mouthful of food. "I'm an artist, so shoot me."

Helen said, "That was easy. Almost too easy. What's the catch?"

John looked around the table and said, "Well, I'm going to need to make a trip to a theater supply store for prosthetic supplies."

"I'll need your credit card to buy what I need," Quinn said.

It was Daria's turn to shrug. "I don't know. Maybe I'll cut a couple of holes in a sheet."

Jake had a far-away look and a grin.

_Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Helen. They all agreed without a fuss._ "Deal."

* * *

  
Rolling around Daria's room on the office chair, John said, "There's a lot of things we can do around a ghost. Eerie, pale makeup. Streamers, glow paint"

"I wasn't kidding about a sheet," Daria said, sitting on her bed and trying to read.

Not letting Daria's attitude deflect him, John said, "Okay, we can have fun with that. Like, hitting a thrift store for an old eighties kid show sheet."

"You're incorrigible."

"Trying to make the most out of the situation."

Teasing, Daria said, "You know, there are times that you almost sound like the Fashion Club, only going after cool art instead of fashionable clothes."

"And you're always going for cool writing," John said.

Daria set her book down. "We better not let that get out. We didn't say a thing."

"Not a thing."

"Or hear it."

"Agreed."

"Good."

John suddenly had a thought and lifted a finger to his temple. "I have something."

"Now, I'm worried," Daria said.

"No, no. Something simple andyeah, it should work."

* * *

  
A couple days later, Helen looked into Daria's room and saw her sitting alone at her computer, writing. "Hi, sweetie."

"Hi, Mom."

"The Halloween party's only a couple days away. Do you have something in mind?"

Daria tilted her head toward John's room. "John's doing something in there and I'll find out tomorrow when he's done."

"You'll find out when he's done?"

"Mom, you know how he gets. All I'm sure of is that he picked up white pants, a white pullover shirt, a white sheet, some see-through white fabric and some white gloves."

"Im almost afraid to ask. What is he doing for himself?"

"He picked up a bunch of latex and stage makeup to be a zombie. Probably something pretty gruesome, judging on how much corn syrup he bought for fake blood."

"Corn syrup? Not in my truck, he's not."

"We're taking our car, remember? Brittany's party?"

"Of course. I wasforget it. It'll give your father and me a little extra time together. Don't worry."

"And I'll try not to imagine."

* * *

  
Her voice quiet, Quinn stood at the corner of Daria's room door and said, "I need your help."

"I'll gladly proofread, but you know I won't write your homework."

"Not that. God, Daria. Even I'm not that dense."

"You're not dense" Daria said, and then teased, "...except when it suits your plan."

Quinn glanced away but didn't say anything.

Daria said, "What do you need?"

"Um, help dyeing my hair."

Daria wiggled a finger in one ear. "Could you repeat that? I thought you said something about dyeing your hair."

"Daria, please?"

"Why don't you get help from the Fashion Club?"

"It's, well, a surprise for Brittany's party."

"The Fashion Club isn't making a coordinated effort?"

"We decided to do things on our own."

"You couldn't agree on a theme."

Quinn nodded.

"And you want to use one of those they rejected."

Quinn nodded again.

"I have exactly zero experience at hair dyes."

"I know, but you, like, know how to listen and read instructions and stuff. It's easy to learn, not like reading Dostoyevsky or anything."

Daria smiled and said, "Just for pronouncing that right, I'll help you."

* * *

  
With a towel draped around his neck to soak up sweat after a good run, John stopped at the edge of the kitchen and stared in disbelief. Once he finally registered that what he was seeing was reality, he said, "Forget everything else. That is the surest sign of the Apocalypse."

"Which one?" Daria said, pulling the rubber gloves from her hands. "Quinn as a blonde or me helping?"

"The whole composition. Either the world is about to end or I've entered some kind of alternate reality."

Looking in a hand mirror, Quinn said, "Don't panic; it's only temporary. You don't think I'd damage my hair by actually bleaching it, do you?"

"That still doesn't explain Daria helping," John said.

Daria gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as she walked past him. "Positive reinforcement."

When he looked back at Quinn, she made "shooing" motions and said, "Take the hint."

* * *

  
Looking in the mirror to adjust the tall "Bride of Frankenstein" wig on her head, Helen said, "I can't believe that these were the only couple's costumes left in the store."

Reaching a finger under his Frankenstein's Monster mask to scratch his face, Jake said, "Wouldn't it have been easier to use one of those we have"

"No!" Helen said. "Those don't leave this room. Well, unless the kids are away, but those costumes _never_ leave this house."

"Yes, dear," Jake said. "I'll go check on the kids to see if they're ready."

"Make sure Daria is making some real attempt at a costume. You know how she can be."

"Oh, don't worry, honey. If John made something for her, she'll wear it."

Helen turned. "You're right."

"Be right back."

Jake practiced walking with his arms held out as he went to John's room. He knocked and said, "Ready?"

Wearing some good-quality appliqu makeup, John appeared at the door looking like a classic zombie. "Except for the last of the blood, and that'll have to wait until I get to the party."

Jake shuddered and whispered, "Eww," but said out loud. "Cool costume! I'll go check on everyone else."

Bemused, John shook his head and then trotted downstairs to wait for the others.

"Quinn," Jake said as he knocked on her door. "Are you ready?"

Holding a wooden stake and wearing a cross necklace, Quinn opened the door and said, "Sure, Daddy." Looking over his costume, she said, "Classics always work."

"Thanks," Jake said. He walked toward Daria's room, but stopped and asked, "Who are you supposed to be?"

Quinn sighed. "Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. You know, from the TV show."

"Oh, um, sure," he said. "That's the one you watch all the time, right?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Okay, just checking."

"I'll see you downstairs."

"And I'll check on Daria."

Over her shoulder, Quinn said, "Good luck."

At the final door, Jake knocked and said, "Kiddo?"

"Coming," Daria faintly said. When she opened the door, Jake took a short step back from the apparition in white.

Over the white pants and pullover, Daria had a white sheet pinned at the neck like a cloak and one corner drawn over her head as a hood. Her face was loosely wrapped in see-through white cloth, hiding it from sight and giving the quick impression of an empty hood. She wore white gloves and an old pair of white shoes. As a last detail, she held a quill pen.

Daria stepped out of the room, saying, "Boo."

Recovering, Jake said, "Very, um, ghosty."

"That's not a word, Dad."

"But it works."

"Come on, Dad," Daria said, pulling on his arm to lead him to the stairs. "You're going to use that word all night, aren't you?"

"Do you think I should?"

"Why not?"

"Kiddo, are you supposed to be any particular ghost?"

"Nah, I'm just one of any number of ghostwriters."

* * *

  
While Winged Tree was the country club of old money and those that wanted to impress old money, the members of Hamptonshire Country Club considered themselves to be the working rich. Among them were doctors, lawyers and entrepreneurs, including every partner of the law firm.

Jake brought the Lexus to a halt in the parking lot, followed by John driving the blue bomb and finally Tom's car, where Quinn was riding. Getting out of the car, Helen paused to make sure the wig was once again in place. At the same time, John used the side mirror to complete his blood makeup.

His hair also dyed blond, Tom got out of his car and said to Quinn while watching the others, "I'm still trying to figure out how you talked me into dressing up as Spike."

She said, "I told you, silly, that going as Angel would be too predictable."

"Yeah, nobody who knows me would ever predict that I'd dye my hair."

"Helen! I'm so glad you could make it," Eric Schrecter said behind his Michael Myers mask. From the slur in his voice, it was clear that he was already intoxicated. "Your costume looks great."

"You know I wouldn't miss it," she replied.

"Jake!" Eric said next.

Jake noncommittally said, "Hi, Eric."

"And your wonderful children," Eric said as he glanced at Quinn, Daria and John.

All three nodded, but kept their distance.

Helen said, "Thank you, Eric."

"And who's your guest?"

"Tom," he said. "I'm here with Quinn."

"Hello, Tom." Eric stepped aside and waved a rubber knife toward the main hall of the country club. "Please come in. All of the partners are already here."

After they were out of range, Daria whispered to John, "Eric as a psycho killer. Why am I not surprised?"

Tom said to Quinn, "I've always wanted to walk into a lion's den."

"Huh?" she said.

"The rivalry between Hamptonshire and Winged Tree is legendary."

"I never heard of it."

"Well, legendary among the members."

Not needing padding to get the proper size, Jim Vitale approached wearing a Don Corleone costume. "Good evening, Helen," he said in a passable Marlon Brando imitation.

"Jim, it's a pleasure to be here."

"Help yourself to the bar and the buffet table, everyone," Jim said.

Making a beeline for the buffet, John said, "Don't worry about that."

Jim chuckled and said, "Teenage boys and their appetites. I'm glad mine is off to college. It's cheaper than feeding him at home."

Jake looked down for a second in thought and then said, "I'll go keep an eye on him."

Quinn whispered to Daria, "Was that what I thought it was?"

"Yes," Daria whispered back.

"It's kinda cute."

"It's a big improvement on constant paranoia."

Jim noticed Tom still standing by and said, "Helen, why didn't you tell me that you were bringing such a distinguished guest?"

"To be honest," Tom said. "Quinn hadn't talked me into coming along until last night."

"I suppose we can tolerate a spy in our midst for the evening," Jim said.

Tom patted his clothes and said, "I left my ball point pen camera at home, so I can't be much of a spy tonight. Maybe I can do better next time."

"Next time," Jim said. "I must mingle. So long."

After he was gone, Tom said, "That was awkward. Sorry."

"Don't be," Helen said. "I know that tone of his voice. He wasamused."

"Amused?"

"He sees things differently than the rest of us."

"Why am I not reassured?"

* * *

  
Standing with John next to the buffet table with the face mask pulled down so that she could sip from a cup of punch, Daria said, "A mafia boss, two different psycho killers, a cyborg assassin, a bloodthirsty dictator, and a parasitic alien. Mom's bosses sure like to send a message."

"Are we sure we want your Mom to become one of them?" John said around munching on some coconut-crusted shrimp.

"As improbable as it may seem from our viewpoint, she might get them to be not so uptight."

"If she does that, I think it would qualify as doing six impossible things and I don't care if it was before or after breakfast."

Tom and Quinn made an escape from Eric's brother, Matt, and joined Daria and John. Quinn said, "Did he have to go so overboard with the fake slime?"

Tom said, "I don't think it was fake."

Quinn slapped his arm and said, "Eww."

"Okay, change of subject," he said. "Who's that running around as Joan of Arc?"

"Mom's assistant, Marianne," Daria said. "Let's hope she's not trying to tell us that she hears voices."

"I was figuring it was more of a statement that you have to be a sword-swinging saint to put up with this crowd," Tom said.

"Everybody dance!" Eric yelled, drawing everyone's attention to where he was standing on a table next to the nervous DJ.

"Eric's hit stupid drunk," John said. "Isn't that our signal to get out of here?"

"Loud and clear," Daria said.

Quinn said, "Sounds like a good idea to me."

"The three of you running away? Now I'm really scared. Let's go," Tom said.

"Can I come, too?" Jake meekly said from where he had been grazing at the buffet. "Nobody wants to talk to me."

"Sorry, Dad," Quinn said. "High school party."

"Military schools never had parties."

Daria leaned against John and said, "Dammit."

"I smell someone's conscience rearing its head," he said.

"Dad," she said, "We won't subject you to Brittany's party, but John and I will stay here and hang out with you."

"Really?" Jake said.

John said, "Quinn, Tom, go on and give our regards to Brittany and company."

"Are you sure?" Quinn said.

"Yeah," Daria replied. "We'll be fine. Besides, I think I've learned that one party per night is my limit."

"Okay, see you later," Quinn said.

As he followed her, Tom said, "Good luck."

"You too," John said.

Jake said, "So what do you want to do?"

"Making sarcastic comments about bad behavior usually works," Daria said.

"You mean like if Matt keeps annoying Marianne like that, he's going to need armor?"

"That's a good start," John said.

* * *

  
Standing in the Taylor living room, Quinn explained to Brittany, "The last I saw Daria and John, they were at the buffet table talking. You know how they can get."

"Oh, yeah," Brittany said. "They get distracted with each other so easy."

"Don't I know it. I have to live with them."

Tom chuckled at that.

Tipping her head at him, Brittany said, "Is he your steady date, now?"

"Um, no," Quinn said. "We're"

"You know, Tom said. "Just kind of hang out together."

"Ohhh."

"I should've known you'd do something from a theme we didn't want to use," Sandi said, standing behind Quinn.

She turned and was surprised to see Sandi dressed as the character Faith. "And Im not the only one."

"I couldn't let a good idea go to waste."

"Hmm, Buffy and Faith," Tom said. "I think I'm going to like this party."

"Don't get your hopes up, Tom-boy," Sandi said. Then to Quinn, she added, "You've been out with him at least five times. Is there some change in dating status that we need to be aware of?"

"No," Quinn said. "We're just friends."

"Sure, you are."

* * *

  
Watching Mr. Riordan, Daria said, "It's the mustache. He couldn't pull off the Stalin look without it."

Jake said, "You have to wonder if he grew it like that on purpose."

"Hmm, a closet communist," John said. "In his circle, that's really something you'd want to keep hidden."

"Jake, there you are," Helen said, hurrying over to the table.

"I've been hanging out with Daria and John," Jake said.

Noticing the teens for the first time, Helen said, "Oh. I thought you were going to your friend's party."

"Change of plans," Daria said.

Helen said, "I hope you're ready to leave, now. I am and I don't want you here alone."

John shrugged. "I could make a run for it. A guy can only take so much high-quality junk food. I need some pizza and cheese fries."

"Pizza sounds good," Daria said.

"Let's go," Helen said, rounding up her family.

"What's the hurry?" Jake asked.

"Half the partners are drunk and sometimes it's best not to see them at their worst," she explained. "That way they don't have to worry about if you saw something that can be used against them later."

"Paranoia preemption, I get it," Daria said.

Helen patted her on the shoulder. "Exactly."

* * *

  
Jeffy looked across the room at Tom and then said to his friends, "Quinn's with that guy, again."

"What's up with that?" Joey asked.

Jamie said, "Who does he think he is?"

"We need to talk to him."

"Yeah," Joey said.

"Let's go," Jamie said.

Other Lawndale teens moved aside and watched as the three boys marched across the living room.

Tom noticed and said, "Can I help you?"

Jamie said, "Who do you think you are?"

"Last time I checked, I was Tom Sloane pretending to be Spike."

"What are you doing with Quinn?" Jeffy said.

"Hanging out. Talking."

"Nobody talks to Quinn," Joey said. "They listen."

"You mean to tell me that you've never said a word to Quinn?"

"Um," Joey said.

"Hey, I've talked to her," Jamie said.

Nudging him aside, Jeffy said, "I've talked more."

"I have," Joey said.

"Me," said Jamie.

"No, me," Jeffy said.

"I'll show you who's talked more," Joey said, throwing a punch at Jeffy.

Jeffy ducked and counterpunched, hitting Jamie instead.

Tom stepped back as the three started throwing punches at random.

"Oh, no," Quinn said as she got back to Tom after talking with Stacy and Tiffany. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure," Tom said. "But I think they were trying to intimidate me. Do you know them?"

She sighed. "I used to think it was cute when they did that."

"This isn't the first time they've tried to beat each other up?"

"It's not even the first time in this room. Sorry."

"Why are they doing it?"

Further embarrassed, Quinn said, "Trying to impress me."

Using a bullhorn, Brittany barked at the fighting boys, "Stop it! It took the maid a week to clean up last time!"

Quinn pulled on Tom's sleeve and said, "Let's go."

Joey, Jamie and Jeffy stopped and looked around. Joey said, "Huh?"

Brittany lowered the bullhorn and said, "That's better. Don't do it again."

"What?" Jamie said.

"Fighting," Brittany said. "Don't do it."

"Oh," Jeffy said. He looked around and then said, "Um, guys. Where's Quinn?"

"Ah, man, she's gone," Joey said.

"That's what you get for starting it," Jamie said, advancing on Jeffy.

"He started it!" Jeffy said, pointing to Joey.

Brittany got in Jamie's face and, with eyes wide, growled, "Don't do it."

* * *

  
Driving home, Daria spied a sleek sports car ahead weaving and then slowly pulling off the road and up onto the sidewalk to barely stop before hitting a street sign. "Let's give that one a wide berth," she said, beginning to shift the car into the far lane.

"Hey, that looks like Eric's Jaguar," John said. As they got closer, he saw the "LAWSOME" vanity plate and said, "That's Eric."

"Are you sure?"

"Who else would have a license plate like that?"

"You've got a point," Daria said, pulling their car up behind it and stopping. "We need to get his ass home."

"Why?" John asked. "A night in the drunk tank never hurt Trent."

"But it'll put him in a bad mood, which he will take out on Mom, who in turn"

"Yeah, stuff goes downhill, I get it. What's the plan?"

"You push him over and drive his car."

"You're going to let me drive the Jag without a fight?"

Daria glared at him. "I'm not sharing a two-seat car with a drunk."

"Good point. Better make sure his head is hanging out the window. Oh, uh, where does he live?"

"Check to see if his registration is in the glove box."

John looked inside the compartment and said, "Found it."

Daria said, "Good."

* * *

  
John parked the Jaguar in the driveway of the Schrecter home and got out. Daria pulled in behind and stopped. She got out and went to John.

He said, "We made it without him decorating the side of the car. Now what?"

Daria looked into the car to see Eric asleep in the passenger seat with his head against the window frame. She said, "We got him home safely. Everything else is his problem. Let's go."

John jogged to the passenger side of the car and got in while Daria went to the driver's side. "That thing is a sweet ride," he said. "Too bad we can't talk your dad into having a mid-life crisis and buying one."

"We both know that Dad's mid-life crisis would more likely involve buying an action figure collection than a fancy car."

"Oh, yeah." As Daria drove the car away, John said, "So I guess we did our good deed for the day."

"And nobody is the wiser. Just the way I like it," Daria replied with a gentle smile.

* * *

  
Standing in the doorway, Quinn looked at her parents in the living room and said, "I got home before Daria and John?"

"Yes, you did," Helen said. "They said that they were going to stop for pizza. Knowing them, it was probably more like a pie than a slice."

Headlights flashing in the windows announced John and Daria's arrival. Quinn leaned against the door frame and waited. When they approached, she said, "It's about time you got home."

John shrugged. "Eh, we went for an extra order of cheese fries. So shoot us."

"You're home early," Daria said. "Have the police already been called to Brittany's?"

"I wouldn'toh, probably," Quinn said.

"So, we didn't miss anything outside of the usual," John said.

"No."

Daria said, "Then we came out ahead. That's the way I prefer to end an evening."

* * *

  
Harriet Schrecter checked the driveway monitor and saw her husband's intact car in the driveway. "At least you didn't kill anyone getting home. I could've strangled your brother when he called and said you were driving and he didn't do anything to stop you." After a moment, she noticed which side of the car Eric was on and said, "How did you get home?"

She rewound the security tape and watched Eric's car pull in, followed by the blue bomb. While watching Daria and John talk in the driveway, she said, "Helen's children. How interesting."

* * *

  
Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

August-September 2009


	43. We're On A Mission

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the forty-third John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

****

We're On A Mission

John enjoyed the cool air over his skin as he ran along the park pathway. Autumn was a good time to run. The air felt cleaner and fresher and the heat of summer had passed, allowing him to enjoy the sights along the way.

On this day, though, he had more on his mind as he neared the lone pay phone. He stopped and took a few seconds to catch his breath before fishing a slip of paper and a quarter from the small pocket of his sweat pants.

After dropping the quarter in the slot, John dialed the number and waited for half a dozen rings. A girl answered the phone, saying, "Hello."

"Hi," John said. "Can I speak with Tom?"

Elsie Sloane didn't bother to cover the microphone when she yelled, "Hey, Tom! Some guy on the phone for you."

After several seconds, Tom picked up, saying, "Hello?"

"Hi, Tom. It's John Lane."

"Uh, hi," Tom said, curious about the call. "What's going on?"

"I was hoping to catch a ride from you this Saturday."

"I guess, but don't you have a car?"

"I don't trust it to go very far."

"I see," Tom said. "It's not the Pinto, but my car's still a rusty piece of junk."

"But it's a more reliable rusty piece of junk than my car."

"That's kind of sad, when you think about it. Why do you need a ride?"

"Daria's turning eighteen and I want to find a good present for her."

"Quinn mentioned that it was coming up. However, I'm still confused about why you need my car. How far do you want to drive?"

"Washington D.C."

Tom whistled. "What's there?"

"A little antique book store that we saw while avoiding the prom last spring. I'm guessing I might be able to score a cool first edition or something."

"Looking online probably would've been easier."

"And where would I have it delivered? My brother's place?"

"Good point."

"Look, I'll cover for gas and a pizza for lunch."

"It'll give me an excuse to skip Mom's pre-Thanksgiving house decorating frenzy. I'm in."

"Thanks, I owe you one."

"You're welcome and I'm sure I'll need a favor some time or another. When should I pick you up on Saturday?"

"Hmm," John said. "I'll meet you in front of the pizza place at eight. I'm trying to keep this trip secret."

"But won't your absence during most of the day be noticed?"

"Yeah, but I've got a plan."

"Okay," Tom said. "I'll see you at eight on Saturday."

"Thanks, man."

"Sure."

John hung up the phone and started back toward home at a fast jog with a smile on his face.

* * *

  
After dinner, John held back in the kitchen as Helen put dishes in the dishwasher. Keeping his voice low, he said, "Can you do a favor for me on Saturday?"

Immediately catching the tone, Helen said just as quietly, "What kind of favor?"

"Keep Daria busy through the afternoon while I shop for her birthday present."

"How do you propose that I keep her busy?"

"A day of mother/daughter bonding? Daria will buy it. Especially if you include Quinn."

Helen nodded, but said, "What about Jake?"

"Give him a big bowl of air-popped popcorn with an uninterrupted day of college football on television and he'll never know we were gone."

Helen warmly smirked. "You've put some thought into this."

"Um, yeah. I figure it'll mean a lot to Daria."

"It will, John. It will."

* * *

  
John waited until Daria was taking a shower before knocking on the door to Quinn's room. She quickly opened the door and said, "Make it quick. I'm trying to coordinate the latest nail polish colors with my lipstick collection and I've only gotten as far as 'Evening Rose.'"

"I need you to help your mother distract Daria for most of the day Saturday while I try to find a birthday present."

"Distract Daria for almost an entire day? How?"

"Helen will come up with some kind of bonding experience and, after the usual haggling, you'll agree and team up with her to get Daria to settle on a price for the day."

"And what, exactly, will you be doing?"

"I'm going to an antique book store in D.C."

"Your car will never make it and Daria will notice in a heartbeat if you take Dad's."

"Tom is going to give me a ride."

"Tom?"

"He's escaping some Sloane family bonding."

"So let me get this straight. You want me and Mom to keep Daria busy all day Saturday while Tom Sloane gives you a ride to Washington D.C to pick up some moldy, old book for Daria so that you can surprise her on her birthday."

"Pretty much."

It was Quinn's turn to smirk. "I'm in."

* * *

  
Arms folded, Daria faced her mother and sister. "You want me to do _what_?"

"It's a day spa," Quinn said. "How can you object to sitting around and being pampered all day?"

"Why should I interrupt a good day of reading to get a pedicure or to have some strange sludge smeared over my face?"

Helen held an open pamphlet in front of Daria. "There are plenty of other things to do at the spa that won't require you to skip your reading."

"Such as?"

"A nice, relaxing foot massage," Helen replied.

Quinn said, "Or aromatherapy. You sit back and relax while they fill the room with different aromas." Anticipating Daria's objection, she added, "You don't have to believe it, just enjoy the wonderful scents."

Daria's eyes went from one to the other and accepted her fate. "A hundred."

"Fifty," Helen countered.

"Ninety."

Quinn said, "Oh, just cut to the chase and say seventy-five."

Helen said, "Deal."

Daria sighed and agreed. "Deal. But if they try to get me to drink some kind of algae extract or anything like that, it'll be an extra twenty."

Helen made a face and said, "Agreed."

* * *

  
Standing in the doorway to John's room Saturday morning, Daria grumbled, "Lucky bastard."

He walked over to her, said, "Very lucky," and kissed the side of her neck.

"That's not what I meant. I have to endure an entire day of mother/daughter bonding and you get to stay at home, ignoring Dad while he watches football."

"I'm still very lucky," he said.

"I know where you sleep and where the knives are kept," she warned.

"Um, you got seventy-five dollars out of the deal?"

"I should've held out for more. As much as I like a foot massage, I can't get one that lasts all day."

"There has to be some place that you can find to hide and read."

"Right here, at home," Daria said.

"Let's try to look at this strategically."

"You, plan strategically?"

He shrugged. "Hey, it's worth a try."

"Okay, go ahead."

"Not only are you getting seventy-five dollars, you're getting bonding credit with your mom. Credit you can use later when you remind her of what you had to endure."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think that you're being awfully supportive of this misadventure."

"I'm trying to make the best out of the situation. It's what we Lanes do."

Daria sighed and said, "You're still going to owe me when I get back. If I have to suffer, someone's going to pay."

John smirked inwardly and said, "I'll see what I can come up with to appease you."

"Appeasement is acceptable. A small country will suffice."

* * *

  
Jake was seated on the sofa, reading the day's televised football schedule, when John came down the stairs to leave. "Hey, John. What's up?"

"Im going for a run. With everyone else gone, I'll have a chance for a long one."

"Oh," Jake said, disappointed.

John leaned against the door. "Hey, you'll have the house to yourself all day with nobody asking you to keep it down."

Jake yelled, "Oh, yeah!"

"That's the spirit. Enjoy," John said, opening the door and stepping out.

"Don't worry, I will!"

John started down the sidewalk at an easy trot. He glanced back at the house and said, "Everyone needs a real chance to cut loose before they can unwind. Have fun, Jake."

The short jog to the pizza place was uneventful and John found Tom already waiting. He stopped next to the car and tapped on the window. "Morning."

Nursing a large cup of takeout coffee, Tom cracked the window open and said, "Why did I agree to do this?"

John went round to the other side and got in. "Escaping from your family, remember?"

"This early? Not really, but I seem to remember something about pizza."

"All bow before the universal bribe."

Tom took a sip of coffee and started the car. "Are you sure about where we're going?"

"Positive. Just in case, I have their card and a map of D.C."

Tom backed the car out of the parking space and pulled out onto the street. "We're not going to Chicago, I've got half a tank of gas, neither of us smoke, it's broad daylight and we're not wearing sunglasses."

"So let's not hit anything," John said.

* * *

  
From the back seat of her mother's SUV, Daria looked at the Lawndale Day Spa and said, "Nothing but the finest faux Mediterranean architecture, I see."

Quinn glanced back. "It's all going to be worth it, Daria. Trust me."

"You and Mom shanghaied me to a day of beauty torture, so from your point of view, I'm sure it's worth it."

Helen said, "Daria, your sister's right. You will think it's worth itif you give things a chance. Like I've given you a few chances."

Daria sighed, nodded and opened the car door. "I'll try to enjoy myself, but I really want to relax. Nothing else."

"I'm sure that the staff will be accommodating," Helen said. She followed that with a muttered, "They'd better. I'm paying them enough."

Helen led her daughters inside and, at the front desk, said, "Helen, Daria and Quinn Morgendorffer."

The perky and perfectly made-up clerk checked the guest book and said, "I have your reservation right here. Follow me, please, and welcome to the Lawndale Day Spa."

"Good, for a minute there, I was afraid that this was the Stepford Day Spa."

The clerk either missed or ignored Daria's comment. "We offer the finest array of spa services. Massage, skin care, yoga, relaxation therapy, aromatherapy, manicures, pedicures, hair styling"

"I just thought of something," Daria said. "We're going to be here all day. Do you have a snack bar or something for lunch?"

"Oh, of course," the clerk said. "Our Green Leaf restaurant serves the finest organic meals, including plenty of vegetarian and vegan options."

"Any chance for pizza?"

"Oh, Daria," Quinn said. "Try a little variety for a change, will you?"

The clerk smiled and said, "They feature a personal pizza on a whole-grain crust with heirloom tomato sauce with fresh herbs, natural, low-fat cheese and pepperoni made from free-range, grass fed beef."

Daria nodded and said, "Pizza with a conscience."

They reached a hallway with a series of close-set doors. The clerk handed each a key card and said, "Helen, you may change in room 14; Daria, in room 15; and Quinn, you'll be in room 16."

"Change?" Daria said.

Quinn replied, "Of course, silly. You don't think you're going around all day in those boots, do you?"

"Let's get the humiliation over with," Daria said while unlocking the door to her changing room.

After Daria closed the door, the clerk said to Helen, "Is there anything we should be aware of?"

Helen said, "Daria's a little nervous. This is her first time. She'll be fine once she settles down."

Quinn opened her door and said as she entered, "As long as nobody tries to take her book away."

"Book?" the clerk said.

"She likes to read," Helen said. "So she'll be doing things that allow her to do that at the same time."

The clerk smiled. "Oh, in that case, we have just the regimen for her."

* * *

  
Driving along the interstate, Tom yawned and said, "Could they possibly make these roads any more boring?"

John said, "It'll get much more interesting once we hit the beltway, but don't worry. We can hit some public parking and take the subway the rest of the way."

"So, we're not driving directly to the store?"

"Not unless you like trying to drive through gridlock populated by insane drivers."

"Taking the subway is starting to sound better."

"Plus, the bookstore is only a couple of blocks from a station. You'd spend more time trying to find a parking space than we'll spend on the subway."

"You've got this all planned out. Quinn mentioned that Daria was spending the day at a spa with her and their mother. How did you pull that off?"

"Manipulation, bribery and groveling. Oh, and I may need to score the deed to a small country."

Tom said, "Take one over, it's a lot cheaper."

"Family history?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny."

"Wait, Quinn mentioned the day spa to you?"

"Yeah, when we talked on the phone last night."

John said, "If you don't mind my asking, what is the deal between you two?"

"Deal? There's no deal, we're friends. We tried the dating thing and it didn't work."

"Really? Quinn has gone out with you more than anyone else since you two met."

"Well, yeah. We go out together, but we haven't been _going out_, if you get my meaning."

"So, if you're not _going out_, why are you always going out?"

"It's comfortable."

"Comfortable?"

"There's none of the stress you get when going out on a date."

"Um, okay."

"Really. John, Quinn and I are very different people. But since we don't have any of the usual expectations, we can relax around each other. It'srefreshingly different. It's been almost a year since we met and we haven't kissed. That should tell you something."

"I guess I can see your point."

"Good."

John turned to watch the scenery. "A year, huh? If you haven't noticed, Quinn likes anniversaries."

"Im not into that corny stuff."

John shrugged. "Just making an observation."

* * *

  
Luxuriantly resting on a recliner, Daria read while a trim woman massaged her feet and lower legs. The masseuse said, "You have nice muscle tone in your calves. Do you do anything special?"

"Besides walk to school?" Daria said, looking down from her book. "No."

"Do you normally wear boots?"

"Yes."

"That explains it. A lot of women would like to have your calves."

"Um, thanks."

The masseuse said while standing up, "I'm done. I hope you enjoyed your massage."

"Actually, I did. Thanks for not talking too much and letting me read."

The woman smiled and said, "Simply giving the customer what they want."

"What's next?" Daria asked.

The masseuse checked Daria's schedule and said, "Aromatherapy. Don't worry, you don't have to believe it does anything except smell nice. Most people like to meditate, but a lot also read."

Daria reluctantly closed her book, rose and put her slippers on. "Doesn't sound too bad."

* * *

  
Gazing at the densely packed shelves of books and narrow aisles between them, Tom said, "Wow. You could probably find Moses' laundry list in this place."

"Stone tablets are in the back room," John said as he started searching the stacks.

"I could almost believe you in this place. No wonder you wanted to make the trip. I could spend all day here."

"Nothing's stopping you from spending as much as you want," John said. "Hmm, where to begin? Philosophy? History? Classical fiction?"

Already looking himself, Tom said, "Why don't you just browse and see what strikes you?"

"Sounds like a Lane plan. I'll do it."

* * *

  
Daria closed her book and asked the therapist, "What is that aroma?"

The petite woman said, "Cypress."

"As in the tree?"

"Certainly. Cypress produces a very aromatic wood."

"I like it."

"I was hoping you would."

"Thanks." Daria reopened her book and settled down in the easy chair to continue reading.

* * *

  
Tom looked at the tall stack of books that John had accumulated and said, "Are you buying all of those?"

"No, trying to decide among them."

Tom read the title of one book and said, "Nietzsche in the original German?"

"You have to admit that it's different."

"Does Daria read German?"

"No, but it seems like a cool idea. What have you found?"

Tom held up a couple of books. "Oh, some older stuff I've been curious about, like a nice copy of _The Inferno_ with the original on one page and the translation on the facing page."

"So, Hell is best read in Italian?"

"Maybe, but I can't read Italian."

"Ah."

* * *

  
Quinn looked down on her snoozing sister and smirked with great amusement. She carefully poked Daria's nose with her finger and said, "Wake up."

"Mmm?" Daria mumbled.

"Wake up, time for lunch."

Daria opened her eyes and saw Quinn. "Oh, sorry. I must've fallen asleep."

"No, you did fall asleep. From the look of it, I'd say you're enjoying yourself."

"It's been tolerable."

"Come on, Daria. Admit it."

"Admit what?"

"That you're enjoying yourself."

"I've enjoyed reading my book."

"Through your eyelids? Not unless you're channeling John's brother."

Daria said, "You've been listening to Mystik Spiral?"

"Don't try to change the subject, Daria. You're enjoying yourself here." Quinn sniffed and said, "Mmmmcypress. We can buy some essential oil on the way out if you like."

Daria closed her still open book and stood up. "You said that it was time for lunch. Let's go, I'm hungry."

"Sure, Daria," Quinn said. "Follow me. Mom's waiting and I'm sure she'll want to hear all about you being so relaxed you fell asleep."

* * *

  
"Cool, that looks good," John said while removing a book from the shelf. He scanned the title page and print information before saying, "Jackpot."

Tom looked over at John and said, "_Black Beauty_?"

John held up the near-mint condition book and said, "Daria has a really well-worn copy on her bookshelf and it's her oldest favorite. A first edition is way out of my price range, but I figure that a 1900 edition will be a great surprise."

"That's a, uh, nice gesture. Do you do something like this every year?"

"No, that's what's going to be so fun."

"Huh?"

"Most birthdays and stuff we've done have been low-key. Daria likes it that way. But this time, I wanted to do something special and surprise her."

"What do you get out of it?"

"It'll make her happy."

"Okay."

"Besides, the look on her face will be worth it."

"Hmm," Tom said, going back to browsing the shelf. "Do you mind if I look for a while longer?"

"Sure, why not? Looking for anything in particular?"

Tom shrugged. "I think that I'll know it when I see it."

* * *

  
Quinn looked across the table at Daria and said, "With everything on the menu, you ordered the pizza."

Daria took a bite, chewed and swallowed before saying, "I like pizza, and this is very good pizza."

Helen said, "Even if it's good for you?"

"I'm ignoring that detail," Daria replied, taking another bite.

"Like you're ignoring the fact that you're enjoying yourself today?" Helen said.

Daria squirmed in her seat, bringing a smile to Quinn, who said, "She is."

"This place doesn't suck," Daria said.

Helen said, "That's great praise, coming from you."

Daria set her slice of pizza on the plate and said, "Okay, okay. I'm having a good time. I expected to be pummeled with beauty advice delivered with a hard sell. Instead, the staff have been very polite and understanding that I want to read my book."

"A lot of women in high-profile positions that are used to playing hard ball come here to relax and not to be reminded of what things are like out there." Helen sighed and said, "I wish I hadn't waited so long."

"Well, I hope you don't wait to bring us back," Quinn said. "Today has been fantastic. I started off with a pedicure to absolutely die for, then a high-precision, organically herbal exfoliation cream treatment, a micromoisturizing facial, eyebrow waxing and then the best manicure of my life."

"What did they do? Put you on the express train?"

"It's all about scheduling, Daria. It's all about scheduling."

Feeling pretty good, Helen said, "It took over sixteen years, but it was worth it."

"What was worth it?" Quinn said.

"Finding something both of my daughters could agree uponother than trying to extort money out of me."

Daria said, "Dammit, busted."

"We promise never to do it again," Quinn said.

Helen said, "That's okayit's been worth it."

* * *

  
"Go! Go! Go!" Jake was shouting at the television and jumping around when John made it home.

When he started up the stairs, John said, "Im home."

Jake spun and said, "Hey, John. How was your run?"

"It was good. How's the game?"

"The Middleton Mud Daubers are kicking ass!"

"Who are they playing?"

"The South Central Florida Tangerines!"

"Cool. Do you think they have a shot at a bowl this year?"

"They still have a wildcard shot at the Zucchini Bowl."

"Hey, then good luck. I'm going to grab a shower and stuff."

"Okay, John," Jake said, going back to the game. "Go Mud Daubers!"

* * *

  
"Dad, what's going on?" Daria asked when she entered the house and found Jake dancing on the sofa.

"We won, kiddo!"

"We?"

"The Mud Daubers!"

Helen followed Daria and said, "That's nice, honey. Now, can you please stop jumping up and down on the sofa like a five-year old?"

"Oh, um, sure, honey," he said, stepping down. "How was your day?"

"All in all," Helen said, "a success. Where's John?"

"He's upstairs taking a shower after a run."

"He was getting ready to run this morning when we left," Daria said. "Was he gone all day?"

Jake said, "I guess so. Long run?"

Daria shook her head and started up the stairs. "Only if you're running a marathon."

Helen and Quinn exchanged glances. Quinn shrugged and mouthed, "We tried."

Daria stopped at John's room and saw that he was in there, freshly dressed and with damp hair. "Hey. Heard you were out running all day."

"Nah," he said. "More like escaping Jake and a day of Mud Dauber football. I ran, had some pizza and generally bummed around. How bad was the day of mother/daughter bonding?"

"I survived," Daria said. "I'm going to get changed myself. See you downstairs for dinner."

"Sure."

Daria went to her room and closed the door. "Hmm."

* * *

  
"I forgot something," John said as he and Daria were about to get into the car for school Monday. "I'll be right back."

"Don't take too long; we're cutting it close as it is," Daria said.

John ran back inside and found Helen still in the kitchen. "Hey, I wanted to say, 'Thanks,' for keeping Daria busy."

"Oh, it was my pleasure," Helen said. "We had a good time, no matter how much Daria is trying to play it down."

"Well then, cool." John said, grabbing an intentionally left textbook from the counter. "I love it when a plan comes together."

After watching him run back out, Helen gently laughed and said, "Jake, you had to get him hooked on that old TV show."

* * *

  
After school, Daria pointed to a restroom down a side corridor and told John, "I'll catch up with you at the _Lowdown_ workroom."

"I'll be there," John said, continuing on his way while Daria walked toward the side corridor.

There, Daria found Quinn at her locker, taking out books for that evening's homework. "Hey, Quinn."

Quinn half-turned and said, "Hi, Daria. Aren't you supposed to be at the paper?"

"I'm on my way, but I wanted to catch you for a minute."

"What are you up to?"

"Saying, 'Thank you.'"

"Huh?"

"For helping Mom keep me busy while John was out shopping Saturday."

"You know?"

"I guessed, but now I know."

Quinn stamped her foot. "Daria, you're no fun. John went to a lot of effort."

"That's why I'm not going to say a thing to him, but I still wanted to thank you and Mom."

"Okay, now I'm getting confused."

"Do you remember when I figured out that Santa Claus didn't exist because his handwriting was the same as Mom's?"

"Yeah, you said to keep quiet to keep the presents coming," Quinn said, a little surprised and disappointed. "I didn't think you were like that with John."

"What else did I say?"

"Oh, um, because it makes Mom and Dad happy to keep doing it?"

"Exactly. John went to a lot of work to cover his tracks and I don't want to spoil it for him."

"Okay, Daria," Quinn said. "I'll keep quiet."

"Thanks."

"You're getting soft on me."

Daria tapped her boot against a locker. "These can still kick your ass."

Quinn closed her locker and turned to walk away while jokingly saying, "Feel the sisterly love."

* * *

  
On the evening of Daria's birthday, John had joined the Morgendorffers around the kitchen table and the cake that Helen had purchased on her way home from work. "Happy 18th Birthday, Daria" was written on chocolate cake with green icing and several green flowers were set in one corner. After the others had completed a rendition of the birthday song, complete with Jake's over exuberance, Daria said, "At least that wasn't as creepy sounding as Mr. DeMartino singing the first line during class today. If I ever find out who spilled the beans about my birthday to the faculty, they will die a very slow, painful and creative death."

John held back a laugh when he saw Quinn barely roll her eyes. He said, "You have to admit that what Ms. Ruiz did was fun."

"Yeah, and now everyone wants one of her 'Get Out Of Class Free' cards."

"What was that?" Helen said.

"It's a fancy library pass," Daria said.

"Oh," Helen said.

Quinn said, "God, Daria. Even the teachers get geeky around you."

"It's all part of her charm," John said.

Helen said, "Okay, John. Why don't you start things off with the presents?"

"Um, me?"

"I'm sure you have something special," she said.

John went over to the counter and returned with a wrapped package. "Happy birthday."

Daria unwrapped the gift and stopped for a moment as she read the title on the leather-bound book. "It's wonderful. How did you find it?"

"With a little help from your Mom and sister, as well as Tom."

"Tom?"

"Wheels. You don't think I found that in Lawndale, do you?"

Playing along, Daria said, "So that's what you were up to Saturday, you little sneak."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

She quickly kissed his cheek and said, "It was."

Helen gave Daria an envelope, saying, "Happy birthday, sweetie."

"A gift certificate to the day spa?" Daria said upon opening it.

Helen winked and said, "I'm sure you'll enjoy it even more when you don't have to put up with your mother."

"Thanks, Mom."

Daria next took a small package from Quinn. "An oil candle and cypress essential oil," she said. "Thanks."

"I didn't think you'd have a problem with it," Quinn said. "And you know where to get more."

Jake was the last, feeling a little out of place. "Here you go, kiddo."

Daria took the gift bag and pulled the loose tissue paper away from the top. "A wooden book holder. Wow, thanks."

"You know, so your hands can be free for writing and stuff."

"I think I can put it to use, Dad."

* * *

  
Later, Daria had set her new book on the stand and her room was filled with the soft aroma of cypress. When John came in, she went to him, put her arms around his shoulders and gave him a long kiss. "Thank you, so much. I can't believe you found an antique copy."

"It took a little effort."

"And recruiting Mom and Quinn must've been a challenge."

"Not as hard as you think. Maybe they're starting to like me."

"Maybe."

"Well, how does it feel to be an adult?"

"I'm still in high school, so I don't really feel like an adult. Maybe when I go away to college, I can start feeling like one."

Still holding Daria, John said, "You know, we really need to start figuring out what we're going to do after graduation."

"Yeah, finding colleges, getting accepted, the whole bit."

John softly said, "I was thinking more about us and what we're going to do."

Daria whispered back, "Oh."

* * *

  
A couple nights later outside of the Griffin home, Quinn got into Tom's car and said, "Thanks for the ride, Tom."

"I live for rescuing you from another round of indoctrination from Chairman Sandi's Little Pink Book."

Quinn giggled and said, "Oh, she's not really that bad. Most of the time."

Driving away, Tom said, "Im kind of curious. You're old enough to drive. Why don't you have a car?"

"Mom has this thing about parents buying cars for their children."

"Okay, I know that feeling."

"And since I'm going to be spending the whole rest of my life working after I get out of school, why get a job now just for a car?"

"That makes sense." Tom reached to the back seat and brought forward a wrapped package.

"What's this?" Quinn said.

"I'm not really great on dates, but it's been about a year since we first met. I thought I'd pick something up for you."

"An anniversary present. How thoughtful, Tom," Quinn said, neatly opening the wrapping by peeling away the tape without damaging the paper. Inside was a large book. Quinn gasped when she read the title. "_Rane's Complete History of Fashion_!" she exclaimed. "Oh, my God! How did you find it? Nobody in the entire Fashion Club has been able to get a hold of it!"

Tom rolled to a stop at a stop sign. "Same place John picked up Daria's gift. Enjoy it."

Impulsively, Quinn leaned over and kissed Tom. They looked at each other for a moment in surprise and then kissed again.

When the driver in the car behind them honked his horn, they moved apart and Tom pulled away from the intersection.

Quinn said, "Tom, I, um, enjoyed it."

He replied, "Me, too."

* * *

  
Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading. October 2009


	44. Fizzy Logic

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
This is the forty-fourth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Fizzy Logic**

As Ms. Ruiz passed out papers to her senior English class, she said, "Try to read chapters one to five of _Frankenstein_ in the handout. You can thank the not-so-generous voters for the lack of real copies."

Moving his photocopies back and forth, Kevin said, "Hey, Ms. R., I can't read this."

John held his up and said, "I can't read mine, either."

Daria squinted and said, "Hmm...I can just make out the words 'incipient migraine.'"

Ms. Ruiz said, "Yeah, I know. A secondhand photocopier that came from a college library the day after term papers were due would be a step up from the POS in the teachers' lounge. Do your best and if you resort to watching a movie, stick to the one with Boris Karloff."

* * *

  
Jenna Waters, a LHS junior with wavy red hair and slender, oval glasses, was normally a pleasant girl who enjoyed her after-school work. This afternoon, she wadded up a memo and angrily threw it in the trash can, growling, "Dammit! Ms. Li cut the _Lowdown_ budget, again!"

At her work station, Daria said, "There's been a lot of that going around."

Shaking her head, Jenna said, "On days like this, I wish Ms. Li had taken Jodie's recommendation and made you the editor instead of me."

"Oh, no," Daria said. "I'm fine right where I am. You know as well as I do that Ms. Li and I would've come to blows within two weeks."

Inking one of his cartoons, John said, "Don't look at me."

"Don't worry, we weren't," Jenna said. "But you better get used to using both sides of the Bristol board from now on."

"Get real," he said.

"I'm not kidding."

"This is getting stupid. The work table will ruin anything that's drawn on the back side."

"Either figure a work-around or do your drawings on half a sheet."

John grumbled, "Half a sheet, it is."

* * *

  
In a particularly foul mood, Ms. Barch paced back and forth in front of the room and said, "Class, our planetarium trip has been canceled due to lack of funds, so your assignment tonight is to locate Orion the Hunter in the sky, then write an essay on why you think he needs to carry a weapon to feel like a man."

The bell rang and Ms. Li's voice came over the PA system, saying, "Attention, students," followed quietly by, "An acute paper shortage prevents us from sending home an announcement about the school review meeting." Dropping to a barely audible whisper, she said, "So please remind your parents that it's the 30th at 6:00."

Daria asked, "What'd she say? The 30th?"

"Thank you," Ms Li quietly said to finish the announcement.

Going down the hallways after class, Daria said, "Why didn't she come on before the bell rang so we could hear her?"

John shrugged and said, "Well, considering it was about a school review meeting, I'd have to say, 'Who cares?'"

"Something smells fishy."

"That's just the 'ocean fish surprise' from lunch."

* * *

  
In the paper workroom, Daria said to Jenna, "That's Super Bowl Sunday? Great, just great. That means that Ms. Li is trying to hide something. Why don't you send one of the regular reporters out to cover it?"

"I'm sorry, Daria," Jenna said. "But they all have commitments."

"What about you?"

"Um, so do I."

"And everyone knows that Daria Morgendorffer doesn't have plans."

"Well, yeah. Sorry. The paper really needs to cover it and you're the most available staff member."

"I'll think about it."

"I'll send John with you. He can do courtroom sketches."

"Hey, wait a minute!" he said.

Daria said, "If I can spread the misery, okay."

* * *

  
At the dinner table, Quinn explained, "After all, it's a Super Bowl party with guys yelling and jumping up and down and spilling stuff like drinks and dip. I mean, oh my God, onion dip, chili dip, cheese dip, and that funny green stuff. You have to plan ahead, so Stacy and I found simply the greatest prints you'd ever want to see to wear."

Helen said, "That's wonderful, honey."

Toying with her food, Daria said, "John and I are going to be covering a school review meeting that Ms. Li called on Super Bowl Sunday for the paper."

Helen said, "Really? That's odd. Well, maybe she's not a football fan."

John said, "You know she's trying to pull something. Why don't you come with us? Just in case."

"John, I'm sorry, but Jake and I have to go to Eric's Super Bowl party."

That broke Jake's concentration on his dinner and he exclaimed, "Not again?"

Helen sighed and said, "If I skip it, I won't look like a team player."

Jake said, "Honey, I don't want to spend another Super Bowl with a bunch of freakin' lawyers! All they do is drink their highballs and smoke their smelly cigars. Bunch of lousy"

Helen snapped, "Jake! I got five people to promise that they'd talk to you."

"You did?"

"I had to call in a few favorsthank God we skipped out of the Halloween party early."

Quinn said, "Excuse me, but I think Daria's on to something."

Surprised, Daria said, "Thanks, Quinn. Mom, the high school principal called a public meeting that she doesn't want anyone to attend. Aren't you the least bit worried?"

Helen said, "Didn't you say that you and John were going?"

"Yes."

"Then tell us what happened when you get home."

* * *

  
Leonard Lamm's entire look, feel and demeanor oozed "sales" as he spoke at the podium of the Lawndale High auditorium. "So if I may sum up: our young people are our greatest resource. Therefore, let us mine that resource and allow their thirst for refreshment to fuel their thirst for knowledge. That, ladies and gentlemen, is empowerment. Thank you."

Ms. Li hurriedly replaced him at the podium and, while clapping, said, "Yahoo! Well, if that's not inspiring then I wasn't named fourth runner-up for Principal of the Year by the tri-county chapter of the Asian-American Women in Education's Caucus. Now, I'm sure you all want to get home and watch the game, but first we've allotted...three minutes for public commentary on Mr. Lamm's proposal."

Ms. Li ignored Daria when she stood up, and instead said, "Nobody? Very well, then."

Daria pointedly said, "Excuse me."

Annoyed, Ms. Li said, "Um, yes, Ms. Morgendorffer?"

"You're planning to make soda companies bid against each other for the right to market their products in Lawndale High?"

Mr. Lamm stepped back to the podium. "That's right. All you kids have to do is what you'd do anyway: drink soda."

"Does that mean that everywhere I turn I'll run into a vending machine?"

"Well, there wouldn't be much value to the contract if the product weren't easily available," Mr. Lamm said, followed with a faux laugh.

"And what else?"

"Nothing but a few small, discreet advertising posters in the halls. Nothing in questionable taste. And, if we're lucky, an exciting new high-tech scoreboard for athletic events, boys' and girls'."

Daria said, "So the school will, in effect, be endorsing the soda? Is that really the school's role, to become a shill?"

Lamm probed, saying, "Miss...do you drink soda?"

"Huh? Of course."

"So?"

"This isn't about whether I like soda. It's about whether a public high school should be using its status as a place of authority to serve as one more marketing tentacle of corporate America. With the taxpayers subsidizing it."

John glanced at Daria and thought, _Good one._

Mr. Lamm said, "Surely you give your friends enough credit to know when they're being taught and when they're being sold to?"

Dispirited, Daria said, "I give them enough credit to figure out about three seconds after those machines arrive that they can't trust this institution. The few who still do."

Ms. Li rushed back to the podium to end the affair. "Oh, dear...darn it, our time is up. I've got Super Bowl fever. Go, teams, go!"

John and Daria watched, dumbfounded, as she pushed Mr. Lamm off of the stage.

On the drive home, Daria said, "This whole thing sucks. They shouldn't be selling stuff to people under the guise of educating them. Don't you think it's totally unethical and underhanded?"

John said, "Exactly what we've come to expect out of Ms. Li."

"This time, we have to do something about it."

"We?"

"You don't think I'm going to do this alone, do you?"

"And that's exactly what I'd expect out of you. I'm in. What are we going to do?"

"I don't know. There's only so much we can do through the paper since Ms. Li can shut down anything she doesn't like."

"It doesn't seem fair that she can do that."

"You remember what Mom said. Since it's the official school paper and Ms. Li is ultimately responsible for the content, she has final say in what goes in it."

"No wonder so many college papers are independent."

"Tell me about it."

"You're still working on a plan, aren't you?" John said.

Daria admitted, "Yes, and I'll let you know as soon as I figure one out."

* * *

  
"A captive audience of hundreds of money-spending teenagers? What a brilliant idea!" Jake said when Daria had explained what had gone on at the review meeting. When he saw Daria and John's reactions, he said, "Bogus idea. Yeah, that's what I meant, a really bogus idea."

Helen sighed and said, "I can't say that I'm surprised that Ms. Li would do something like this, considering the failure of the school tax increase last fall, but there's not much we can do from a legal standpoint."

Daria said, "But what about the meeting? She barely advertised it."

"She made an announcement over the PA system, correct?" Helen said.

"Yeah," John answered. "But we could barely hear her."

"But you heard and attended. She'll be able to say that since you knew about it, there was an adequate announcement."

"You sound like you're defending her," Daria said.

"I'm bringing up what she could use as a legal defense. Sweetie, Ms. Li isn't stupid. She set this up so that she could get what she wanted out of it."

"And cover her ass at the same time," John said.

Helen said, "Before you two start anything, remember: you may have youth and skill, but she has old age and treachery on her side. I don't need to remind you which one usually wins."

* * *

  
Jenna was at her _Lowdown_ work desk as she read Daria's article on her computer. "A soda contract. So that's what the whole review meeting was about."

"Yep," John said. "Now we really can call Ms. Li a sellout."

"Or at least willing to sell us," Daria said.

"I'm beginning to think I should have you do more reporting," Jenna said. "I know this is burning you up, but your article really sticks to the facts."

"It should be all that's needed," Daria said. "But Im not nave enough to believe that. However, it's the only thing that has a chance of getting past Ms. Li and into print."

"And then what?" Jenna asked.

"With the facts out, let's see what opposition develops."

John said, "Daria, they're making it easier for fellow students to mainline sugar and caffeine."

"It's a faint hope," Daria said. "But we need to give it a shot so that we won't be targeted and neutralized right away."

"Ah, patience," John said. "You know I suck at that."

* * *

  
Only a week later, Lawndale High had been transformed by a blur of yellow and green and the ubiquitous Ultra Cola logo. John said, "Is this what Quinn likes to call a makeover?"

"Close," Daria said. "Except that Quinn would show much better taste."

Noting the students gathered around the numerous soda machines and milling around the hallways clutching open cans, Daria said, "So much for spontaneous opposition to being sold to."

"We shouldn't be surprised after Kevin read your story and said, 'Yeah, more soda machines!'" After seeing one student drain a can, toss it into the trash and immediately open a second, John said, "Sheesh, did they add crack to that stuff or something? Even I wait five seconds between cups of coffee in the morning."

"I've always admired your restraint."

John smirked. "And I've never drunk directly from the coffee pot."

"I still feel sorry for Mom trying to explain why Dad's lips were burnt to the emergency room nurse."

"What now? Try to organize a boycott?"

She shook her head. "Most of the students like mainlining soda and the ones that don't like it already aren't buying."

"Hmm, damn. I hate it when you use logic."

"I guess we should at least try to work through channels."

"You don't think that'll work, do you?"

"Not particularly."

* * *

  
Daria and John found Jodie in the library. They sat down next to her and Jodie said, "Hey."

Daria said, "You've got to do something about this."

"About what?"

John pointed to an Ultra Cola sign attached to one of the shelves and said, "That."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, that's kind of sleazy."

Daria said, "Will you talk to someone about it?"

Jodie held up her hands and said, "I'd have to go to the superintendent of schools."

John said, "Cool. So, you'll do it?"

Jodie frowned and said, "John, it's bringing in a lot of money to the school. I don't know."

"Even though you admitted it was sleazy?" Daria said.

Feeling embarrassed, Jodie said, "Well, yeah. But the Lawndale Model Congress is going to Washington next month and, for the first time in three years, we don't have to sell 500 rolls of gift wrap to pay for the bus."

John said, "So you're willing to let the bad habits of other students fund your trip?"

Jodie sighed and said, "Nobody is holding a gun to their heads and making them buy sodas. Who am I to tell them what they should drink? Or you?"

"Do you really believe that?" Daria asked.

"It's happening whether we like it or not," Jodie said. "At least we're able to get some good out of the situation. You can see that, can't you?"

Daria said, "I didn't realize that soda would cover the price of a soul."

"I guess it's better than selling my soul with wrapping paper."

* * *

  
Dejected, Daria sat, hunched, on her bed. "Jodie had a point. Who am I to decide what other students should drink? It's their bodies and their choice."

"But it's not a great choice and the only other alternatives are the suspect milk the cafeteria serves or that stuff the city Public Works department claims to be tap water."

"But it's still their choice," Daria said. "Isn't that what I keep going on about? That people should be able to think for themselves and make their own decisions?"

"Umyeah."

"Thus, my conundrum."

John sat on the bed. "Damn, living up to good ethical standards is a pain in the ass."

"Yeah, it is." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "But having another ass around helps."

* * *

  
Later in the evening, Helen stopped John in the upstairs hall and said, "Daria seems a little out of sorts tonight. Care to fill me in?"

He said, "Oh, it's Ms. Li's soda contract and what's going on at school."

"She's trying to come up with something to do about it?"

"Not right now. She's trying to balance doing one right thing against doing another right thing."

Helen knowingly sighed and said, "The downside of a conscience. What right thing is she trying to balance against fighting Ms. Li's soda contract?"

"That the other students have the right to choose what they want to drink. Yeah, soda's a bad choice, but"

"I see," Helen said.

"Any advice?"

"These things always require striking a balance. The trick is to figure out where that is."

"In other words, we're going to have to figure it out on our own."

Helen patted him on the shoulder. "That's life. But, you know, I think you'll be fine."

* * *

  
When a hurried student bumped against Andrea while she waited in line at the cafeteria, she snapped at him, "Try some meth, it might slow you down." She grabbed a carton of milk to go with her lunch before moving away.

Daria watched the scene and said, "Is it me, or are our fellow students more hyper than normal?"

"Only what you'd expect from dumping half a dozen cans of caffeine down each of them a day."

As she had every day, Daria made it a point to pick up milk with her lunch before proceeding down the line. "It's their choice," she said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself.

John didn't think she was succeeding.

* * *

  
It took only a couple of weeks before things changed for the worse. The first obvious change was the banners and pennons on the school buses advertising Ultra Cola. The next happened when John and Daria went to their science class.

At the front of the room, Ms. Barch appeared to be in a fouler mood than usual as she growled, "Class, there's been a change in our lesson plan. Today we'll discuss the planets' relative distance from the sun."

Upchuck said, "But we did that two weeks ago, Ms. B."

Ms. Barch snapped back, "And now we're going to do it again, Charles. Unless you wish to spend the period in independent study?"

Upchuck, along with most of the boys in class, shuddered when he said, "No...not the closet."

Looking pained to show the object, Ms. Barch lifted a model of the solar system made from Ultra Cola cans. "Now, the reason for the change is that I've received a brand new...learning aid." Looking even queasier, she read from a card, saying, "Why, look, students. A three-dimensional model of our solar system, graciously provided by Ultra Cola. Ultra Cola: the favorite beverage in any universe. We can use it to discuss which planets' atmospheres might support the process of carbonation." Unable to continue, she plopped the mobile on her desk with a loud rattle and said, "Or I can just spend the rest of the day in the teachers' bathroom, staring at the tiles," before she walked out of the room.

Ms. Li's voice came over the PA system, saying, "Good Ultra Cola morning, students. I am pleased to announce an Ultra Cola schedule change. From now on, the period between classes will be increased from five minutes to ten, allowing you more time to get to your Ultra Cola lockers, organize your Ultra Cola backpacks, and still enjoy a delicious Ultra Cola. Ultra Cola: the refreshing way to learn."

Seeing the look on Daria's face was all John needed to know that things had changed.

On her way out of the room, Daria grabbed the lesson plan from Ms. Barch's desk and said, "I'm all for giving other students their choice on what to drink, but when it starts to infringe on giving them an education, I've had enough."

John said, "I wonder if Ms. Barch was the only teacher to get stuck with these things?"

Down the corridor, they looked into Mr. DeMartino's room to see that he was facing a soda can-shaped globe while bashing his head against the desk. Between bangs, he grumbled, "Argh! Stupid...argh! Stupid cola...argh...frngn...brmflp...marketing contract...argh...!"

John steered Daria away from the room while saying, "That blew even my stupid-o-meter. We have to do something."

"We?" Daria said. "I'm going to hold you to that."

At the other end of the hall, they spotted Kevin, wearing a new football uniform that was in Ultra Cola colors, talking to Brittany, whose new cheerleader uniform was a giant soda can. Even at this distance, they knew they didn't want to hear the details and they quickly went the other direction. John said, "Sorry, I was wrong. _That_ blew my stupid-o-meter."

* * *

  
While sitting in the waiting room of the school superintendent's office with Daria, John said, "You owe me big time for this, Daria."

Daria said, "You're the one who said, 'we.'"

"I know, but this is way above and beyond acceptable Lane involvement in school politics."

"Me, too." Daria flapped a folder she was holding. "That's why I brought a little evidence."

"Nervous?"

"No."

The administrative secretary said, "You can go in now."

The faint, "Eep!" from Daria brought a smile to John's face.

* * *

  
Daria and John were seated in front of School Superintendent Cartwright's desk as Daria completed her statement by saying, "We recognize that advertising is becoming more and more ingrained in our culture and sponsorship money can be useful in tough economic times, but we think that it becomes a problem when that advertising pre-empts education, as we described."

Mr. Cartwright said, "Ms. Morgendorffer...I hope you don't mind that I punched your name up on the computer. You have a very impressive academic record."

Daria nodded, "Um, thanks."

"And yours, Mr. Lane, is, well, less robust, but solid."

"I try," he said.

"And both of you have an interesting mix of extracurriculars."

Daria asked, "What does that have to do with anything?"

Mr. Cartwright flipped through the Ultra Cola lesson plans that Daria had picked up from Ms. Barch's desk. "It tells me that you take your education seriously. Something I don't always see in young people."

"Does that mean you're going to help?" John asked.

"Lawndale High is the only school in the county currently running a surplus. I was thinking about talking to Leonard Lamm about writing a contract proposal for all our schools."

Daria said, "You've got to be kidding. We've really gone out on a limb to come here and you still want to talk to him about contracts for other schools?"

"I said, 'was thinking.' What you've brought in is making me reconsider." He tapped the folder. "These lesson plans don't come anywhere near the district standards. I have to investigate, or the voters will have my head on a platter come next election."

"Thank you," Daria said. "And while it wouldn't cross most of their minds to say so, thanks on behalf of the rest of the students at Lawndale."

"Yeah, thanks," John said. "But can you do us one more favor?"

Mr. Cartwright said, "What would that be?"

"Can you not mention our names in all of this? You know, peer pressure and all that stuff."

Mr. Cartwright knowingly tipped his head and stood. "I'll consider this an anonymous tip. I know how Ms. Li can get. Thank you for coming in."

Daria and John thanked him again as they left the office. Once out of the building, Daria said, "He's only concerned about covering his ass during the next election. And damn, he even knows how Ms. Li can hold grudges."

"At this point, I'll take what we can get. After all, don't you get a certain satisfaction from twisting someone's bad motivation into doing something good?"

"It makes life tolerable at times."

Grasping Daria's hand, John said, "I hope he investigates soon."

"From the way he handled those lesson plans like hazardous waste, I bet he's going to be there in less than a week."

John looked down and said, "Hazardous waste? I hope you washed your hand."

* * *

  
Andrea caught up with them in the hallway a couple of days later and kept pace a step behind as they walked to their lockers. "You've gotta do something," she said.

"We've got to do something about what?" John said.

"This damn soda insanity," Andrea said. "I swear that if I have to spend the rest of the year looking at these eye-bleeding colors, I'll go postal and no machine will get out of here alive."

"I'm sure that there's more to it than an offended color sense," Daria said.

"Of course," Andrea said. "Everyone's gone all hyper and the lines are even longer in the bathrooms. It's a good thing Ms. Li gave us more time between classes. If you've gotta go, you need the extra five minutes."

When he arrived at Lawndale High, Superintendent Cartwright was surprised at the glaring amount of Ultra Cola advertising around the school. He had to walk around large knots of students gathered around the soft drink machines to make his way to the school's main office.

He saw the two teenagers that had alerted him to the situation speaking to a third. He barely gave them a nod of recognition before he went through the office front door.

Andrea saw the superintendent's glance and whispered, "Thank you."

"Please keep quiet about it," John said. "We don't need the grief."

"I won't say anything, but everyone will know you did something."

"How could they know it was us?" Daria asked.

"Because nobody else would."

* * *

  
Inside, Mr. Cartwright told the receptionist, "I'm here to see Ms. Li."

"I'm sorry Mr. Cartwright," she said. "But Ms. Li is in a meeting with Mr. Lamm right now."

"Then my timing is perfect," he said while going to the door to Ms. Li's inner office.

"How dare you" Ms. Li started to say as the door opened. She stopped when she saw who was at the threshold. "Mr. Cartwright. What a pleasant surprise."

"Good morning, Ms. Li," he said. "And to you, Mr. Lamm."

"Good morning," the soda company representative said.

Mr. Cartwright placed his briefcase on Ms. Li's desk and, with a click, opened it. "I'm hoping that you two can clear up some confusion I have. By the way, Ms. Li. When did Lawndale High change its colors? I thought they were blue and yellow."

"Well, um" Ms. Li said, stalling while she tried to come up with an answer.

Mr. Cartwright placed the science lesson plans in front of Ms. Li. "Can you please explain to me how these unapproved lesson plans from Ultra Cola came to be in use?"

"They are purely optional supplements graciously provided by Ultra Cola," Mr. Lamm said. "As part of our commitment to education of the whole child."

Mr. Cartwright said, "Oh, really? I was under the impression that these were mandatory lesson plans. Ms. Li, you do remember howtouchythe state curriculum committee can get about standards, don't you?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Cartwright," she blurted out. "How could I ever forget?"

Mr. Cartwright turned to Mr. Lamm. "I noticed all the banners and advertising all over the school. I have to wonder if there isn't some sort of undue influence going on here that might be jeopardizing the quality of education in this school."

Quiet and apologetic-sounding, Ms. Li said, "Mr. Cartwright, it's embarrassing to admit, but"

* * *

  
At the breakfast table, Daria set down the copy of the _Lawndale Sun-Herald_ and said, "So in the end, our actions gave Ms. Li the means she needed to come out almost smelling like a rose. Great."

"So now she's the earnest educator that was mercilessly exploited by the slick corporate hack. But at least we won something," John said. "The posters, banners and 'teaching aids' are gone."

"Yeah, but Ultra-Cola still has the contract for the cafeteria, sporting events and after-school sales. I can't help but feel like we won the battle but lost the war. With them having a foot in the door, Ultra-Cola can push things up a little bit at a time."

"Slowly, so nobody notices," John said, suddenly dejected.

"Precisely. We protected our classmates, but somewhere down the line after the spotlight is gone"

"The fight never ends, does it?"

Helen, who was also sitting at the table, listening, gently said, "It never does."

* * *

  
Some dialog from _Fizz Ed_ by Glenn Eichler

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.

November 2009


	45. Haunted by the Past

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the forty-fifth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Haunted by the Past**

When the TV Announcer said, "The Fashionvision Humanitarian Awards will be back right after…" Quinn muted the sound with a remote and said to the rest of the Fashion Club, seated with her in the living room, "Their generosity is so inspiring. Watching this was such a great idea, Sandi."

Sandi Griffin gave her a nod and said, "I try."

Helen paced back and forth in the kitchen as she talked on the telephone. "But Rita, if Erin never loved him, why'd she marry him in the first place? Once he gave her herpes she didn't think anyone else would want her? Oh, lord, Rita; it's almost a new millennium. When will people get rid of these outmoded ideas about sex?"

Hearing that, Stacy looked over her shoulder and said, "Eww. I can't believe your mom is talking about that over the phone."

"That is so wrong," Tiffany said.

Quinn held up her hands. "Sorry."

Still pacing, Helen said, "Don't lecture me, Rita. Daria and John have been very responsible."

Cringing along with her friends, Quinn grabbed the remote and turned the television volume up high.

A commercial jingle blared, "If freshness had wings…"

Sandi said, "Quinn, that is way too much information from your mother. Please do something about it."

Quinn stood and went to the kitchen. "Mom, could you please keep it down?"

"Just a second, Quinn," Helen told her before going back to the phone. "Might I remind you about the 'special' modifications needed for your wedding dress?"

"Mo-om, please?"

Helen said, "Rita. Rita. That doesn't matter. Look, Erin needs to decide that for herself. If push comes to shove, there's a junior associate at the firm who specializes in matrimonial law."

"Mo-om."

"Rita, I'm in the middle of a huge case right now. I wouldn't be able to give Erin my best. Anyway, Quinn needs something, so I have to go. Good-bye." Helen turned off the phone and said, "Yes?"

"Thank you," Quinn replied.

"For what?"

"Getting away from Aunt Rita."

Helen looked at the other girls in the living room. "I embarrassed you, didn't I?"

"Would you like to overhear Grandma talking about sex?"

"Oh, my," Helen said, blushing slightly.

"It's over, Mom. And I should be glad Daria and John are off to that weird movie. You know they would've had something to say about being brought into the conversation."

"I'm sure they would. Oh, that reminds me. How are things going between you and Tom?"

"Look, my show's almost back on. Gotta go," Quinn said and hurried back to the living room.

Helen smirked and said to herself, "I thought that would get her."

...

Leaving a theater, John saw a poster for a cheesy-looking science fiction movie. "Man, I think that would've been funnier than the dog we just watched."

Walking with him, Daria said, "Don't insult canines by comparing them to that movie."

"Okay, what can I insult?"

"Slugs. But only the real ugly ones."

"There are fashionable slugs?"

Daria said, "It's one of life's curses. Everything can be divided into fashionable and unfashionable."

"Quinn must've made more 'this will make a good prom dress' hints again."

"I may have to bury her in my bridesmaid dress."

"A year from now, we'll be at college where they show decent art movies. Won't that be a change?" John said.

"It sure will."

...

Completing the program, the announcer said, "Congratulations for watching the Fashionvision Humanitarian Awards. And remember, there's no better feeling than looking good, doing good. Good night."

Quinn turned off the television and said, "Those models are so unselfish."

Tiffany said, "I feel humbled."

"I wish I could win a Fashionvision Humanitarian Award," Stacy said.

Already planning ahead, Sandi said, "Well, you know, as a prominent extracurricular organization at Lawndale High, there's no reason why we couldn't lend our name to a worthy cause."

Quinn said, "Like the girls' soccer team and their adopt-a-highway sign?"

Tiffany made a face and said, "Eww. Picking up trash on the side of the road?"

"Um, Quinn. I haven't been convicted of anything, have you?" Sandi sternly said. "Besides, why settle for a sign, when you can have a plaque."

Stacy was immediately excited by the idea. "Wow! A plaque?"

Sandi said, "Exactly. Mounted on something appropriate for our beautification image. Like, a park bench."

Still making a face, Tiffany said, "But, then wouldn't people always be putting their butts on us?"

"Eww," Stacy said.

Quinn smiled. "I know. How about a new mirror to replace that awful one in the girls' bathroom that adds at least two pounds?"

Stacy growled, "I hate that mirror."

"It haunts me," Tiffany said.

Sandi said, "That's a good idea, Quinn. Donating a mirror will reflect well on us." When nobody responded to the joke, she repeated, "Reflect well on us?"

Quinn forced herself to say, "Ohh!" before joining Stacy and Tiffany in a laugh.

...

When she and John arrived home, Daria looked around the living room and said, "Good. We missed the fashion invasion."

In the kitchen, Quinn said, "I heard that."

"Good," Daria said.

Quinn came out and said, "I'll have you know that we were inspired tonight to help our fellow Lawndale High students."

"Did Ms. Li slip something into your carrot sticks?" John asked.

"Ha, ha. No, we want to help the other girls on campus and replace that horrible mirror in the girls' room."

John said, "Something I am thankfully totally unaware of."

Daria said, "Sometime, I need to show you. The sketch value alone is priceless."

Shocked, Quinn said, "Daria!"

"Kidding, Quinn. I don't think anyone with a 'Y' chromosome could survive the estrogen atmosphere around that mirror. Or the lingering cloud of hair spray and perfume."

"People want to look their best."

"If it were an industrial area, I'm sure OSHA would require respirators to enter that bathroom."

John said, "Really, I think I'll pass. I've done enough damage to my brain with paint fumes, thank you very much."

Daria said, "So, how are you going to get a new mirror for that restroom?"

"We're going to have a meeting at Sandi's place tomorrow."

"In other words," John said. "You don't have a clue."

"That's why we're having a meeting, silly."

"Okay. Why don't I head up to my room and avoid any further brain damage."

After John went upstairs, Quinn said, "Is he all right?"

"Bad movie. Nothing half an hour in front of a canvas won't cure. As for me, I need a half hour in a good book. Later, Quinn."

"Later."

...

The next day, the Fashion Club gathered in Sandi's bedroom. She said, "All right. Now that we've agreed to donate a new girls' room mirror, the next order of business is to figure out how to pay for it."

As if this was the first time the idea had crossed her mind, Tiffany said, "Oh, yeah."

Stacy loudly suggested, "We could hold a yard sale!"

"Stacy, are you suggesting we sit behind a card table and haggle?"

Mortified, Stacy said, "Oh, God. What's wrong with me?"

Quinn said, "Why don't we do what we do best?"

Sandi gave her a tired look. "Quinn, no one is going to pay us to eat carrot sticks."

"I mean, tell people how to fix their outfits."

Tiffany said, "But, we do that all day for free. That's why everyone likes us."

Quinn said, "Well, we can put it down on paper. Sell our own newsletter offering fashion advice to everyone. Not only that, we can predict fashion trends. People will save money with our newsletter by buying the right things from the start."

Impressed, Sandi said, "A commendable idea. All in favor?" All four of them raised their hands. "Then I guess we should decide which topics to cover."

...

Over a nice dinner with Tom at the country club, Quinn said, "I know you think it's kinda silly, but the new mirror will really make a lot of girls happy."

"Considering how long Elsie spends in front of a mirror, I wouldn't be surprised," Tom said.

"So, we're going to sell a fashion advice newsletter to raise money for it."

"A newsletter, huh? Must've been your idea."

"Yeah. How did you guess?"

"You have live-in technical assistance from Daria and John. Granted, the deal-making to get their help will probably put Donald Trump to shame, but I'm sure you're up to it."

Quickly processing the new idea, Quinn said, "I think I am." _As long as I can talk the rest of the Fashion Club into it._

_..._

After school, the Fashion Club meeting was at Stacy's place. Sternly, Sandi said, "I must be having a hearing problem. I thought I heard you suggest that your sister and that guy that lives with you could help on the newsletter."

Standing firm, Quinn replied, "That's what I said. Sandi, they've been with the school paper since last year."

Stacy said, "I like it."

"Yeah," Tiffany said.

"I might consider the proposal," Sandi said, "if your sister had a fraction of your fashion knowledge."

"She knows fashion," Quinn said. "She just doesn't use it."

"I find that hard to believe."

Quinn opened a folder and pulled out her secret weapon: an old copy of _The Highland Herald_. She opened it to the fashion column and said, "Look at who wrote it."

Sandi read out loud, "Daria Morgendorffer." Shocked, she sat down. "Your sister wrote a fashion column?"

"Yes, she did."

"What happened?" Tiffany said. "Why did she stop?"

"It's a long story," Quinn said. "Now, what do you think?"

Sandi said, "Hmm. This changes many things. You have permission to recruit your sister and that guy."

...

Sitting at her computer and writing, Daria said, "Mom's hinting about college applications again."

Lounging on the bed, John said, "I suppose we should get off our asses pretty soon. Especially if we want to be in, oh, something silly like the same town."

"That would make seeing you a lot easier," Daria teased. "But back to Mom, she also made a comment to me about the two of us looking for scholarships and maybe getting some more extracurricular activities."

"More extracurriculars? Haven't we done enough?"

"Not in Mom's eyes."

"I suppose some scholarships wouldn't be a bad idea. I mean, I'm sure I've added a bit more unexpected college expense to their plans."

Daria said, "Um, yeah. I, uh…dammit."

"That just played into your mom's hand, didn't it?"

"Yes."

"Sorry."

"Don't feel bad; she is a lawyer."

"But what are we going to find for an extracurricular activity? It's too late to sign up for most things and I certainly don't want something that your mom would find."

A faint knock on the door interrupted them. After a pause, the door cracked open and Quinn said, "Is it safe?"

John said, "Don't worry, we're not naked," which earned him a glare from Daria.

Quinn came in and said, "Um, hi."

Daria said, "What do you need one or the other of us to do?"

Quinn rapidly said, "The Fashion Club is doing a newsletter to make money for that new mirror in the girls' room that I told you about and I told the Fashion Club that you used to be the fashion editor in Highland and that you and John could help us put the newsletter together. We'll do the writing and you can do the editing stuff and the artsy stuff. This really means a lot to me and we've been trying to be better sisters and stuff lately and it would be great if you could help me." She took a deep breath and said, "What's your price?"

Daria and John looked at each other. After a mutual nod, Daria said, "Get Ms. Li to sign off on it as an official extracurricular activity."

Quinn's jaw dropped. After several seconds, she sputtered, "Ms. Li?"

"That's the deal."

"I was thinking about money."

John said, "You don't have the kind of money we need. But you can get us something else that we can use."

Quinn said, "You're up to something."

"Deal or not?" Daria said.

Realizing the monetary savings, Quinn said, "Deal!"

"Okay, here's the ground rules," Daria said.

"Ground rules?"

"Want our help?"

Quinn sighed. "Okay."

Daria started to tick things off with her fingers. "First. No direct contact with the rest of the Fashion Club. They give you their stuff and you give it to me. I don't want to hear them talk. Second. We know what we're doing. If you're going to argue with us, make sure that you do, too. Three. Research your stuff. You're not going to make a fool out of me. And four. Pizza delivered tonight. We're hungry."

"Okay," Quinn agreed. "What kind of pizza?"

"Double cheese with sausage and pepperoni," John said. "To celebrate us breaking into the world of fashion."

"I'll go downstairs and order it." After she left the room, Quinn groaned. "What have I done?"

Inside, Daria said, "What have I done?"

...

"Research?" Tiffany said. "That sounds like homework."

Quinn said, "It shouldn't be that bad."

"But I can barely keep up with my homework now," Stacy said.

Sandi said, "I thought that hiring your sister was going to make this easier."

"The only way Daria could make this easier for us was to do the work herself and, trust me, none of us can afford that," Quinn said. "But her help will make it better."

"You had better be right," Sandi warned.

"Trust me. When it comes to writing stuff, Daria's ego is as big as…well, it's big. Really big."

...

Ms. Li read the formal request and then looked up at the members of the Fashion Club gathered in her office. "You recruited John Lane and Daria Morgendorffer for this project?"

"Yes, Ms. Li," Sandi said.

"I'm impressed."

"Thank you."

"If I may ask, how did you convince them to help?"

"Um…we asked."

Ms. Li scrutinized the girls and said, "There's more to it than that."

Quinn quickly spoke up. "College applications."

Ms. Li nodded. "Ah, I see. I knew that there had to be some reason for their participation beyond their nonexistent desire to participate in the honor and glory of Lawndale High."

"It's all about the timing," Sandi said, trying to get attention back and avoid any more of Ms. Li's digressions about the school's honor. "The secret was in choosing just the right time to ask them."

Ms. Li nodded. "Of course, Ms. Griffin." She glanced over the request a second time and then told them, "Everything is in order. Your fundraising project is approved."

...

When she got home, Helen found Daria and John in the kitchen. She said, "I got a call from Principal Li today."

Daria said, "About that…"

"She said you volunteered to help the Fashion Club put out a newsletter as a fundraiser for school beautification."

John said, "Just to be clear, the only thing being beautified is some mirror in the girls' bathroom and, no, I have no idea of what it looks like."

Helen eyed Daria and John. "I can't help but think that there's an ulterior motive here. You don't just volunteer for extracurricular activities."

"Sure there's an ulterior motive," John said. "Finding an extra activity before you found one for us."

"We can learn from past experience," Daria said.

"Or mistakes?" Helen said.

"Either way," Daria said. "Helping Quinn and her friends should cover the extra activity you wanted for our college applications."

Helen smiled. "That's acceptable. Now, what have you done about looking for scholarships?"

"Um…" John said.

Helen said, "That's what I thought. John, Daria, I know we did the right thing by bringing John into our family, but to be honest, two and a half years isn't much time to prepare for the extra tuition. Earning a scholarship or two would be the responsible thing to do."

"Okay, we'll look," John said.

Daria said, "When did you get so good at combining the guilt trip with tapping into our sense of personal responsibility?"

"It's a funny thing. You learn some useful things in law school."

...

Daria took several pages from her computer printer and walked them over to John, who was resting on her bed. "Here are yours to fill out."

"Welcome to the wonderful world of bureaucracy."

"It's our future."

John glanced up from the forms. "Forget half full; that freaking glass is empty."

"Unless we take the Montana cabin fund, buy a cabin and live off the grid," Daria said.

"Live off of what we could grow or catch? We'd starve inside a week."

"A human body can last a lot longer than a week before it starves."

"Maybe, but I'm not going to wait that long."

"You're soft."

John smirked. "So tell me, what kind of pizza can you make while living off the land? Cheese and glitterberries?"

Daria picked up her stack of forms and waved them overhand. "Bureaucracy ho."

...

Quinn slowly opened Daria's door and said, "Daria, can I ask you something?"

Rubbing her temple, Daria pushed the applications aside and said, "Anything to get me away from this paperwork."

"Okay!" Quinn entered and closed the door. "Have you ever heard of a place called FashionLeaks dot com?"

"It's not at the top of my bookmarks. Why?"

"Well, it looks like they have some good stuff for the upcoming fashion season and I'd like to know if, um, they're right."

"I'll take a look." Daria opened her web browser and typed the URL. "Hmm, looks something like the fashion world's version of BananaSecrets."

"What's so secret about bananas?" After a sudden thought, Quinn said, "Eww, I don't want to know!"

"It's gossip about Banana computers."

"Oh."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear your little outburst."

"So, what do you think about FashionLeaks?"

"Don't just take their word for it. Try to verify their claims."

"But that will take more work."

"Do you want to do the work now or look like an idiot later if you're wrong?"

Quinn went back to the door. "You know, I hate it when you do that."

"That's part of the charm of doing it."

...

Later, John came in the room and looked over Daria's shoulder. "What's that?"

Daria pointed to her monitor. "After all of my high and mighty pronouncements to Quinn about checking things out, I figured I'd better do it for our scholarships."

"Anything interesting?"

"I'm going to pass on the Wizard Foundation."

"Wasn't that one for something like ten grand?"

"Yeah, but the CEO of the company is pretty slimy. I know the writing world can get that way, but I want to put it off as long as possible."

"What do you think your mother's going to say about you passing on it?"

"I'm not going to say anything until I've found a replacement."

"Gotcha."

"How are your applications going?"

"All that's left is to get slides of my work developed."

"That was fast."

John shrugged. "Art scholarships don't need long writing samples; they want slides of your work and I'm not making up new stuff just for them."

"Lucky bastard."

John put his arms around Daria and kissed the back of her neck. "I think so."

"You're distracting me."

"Is that a problem?"

Daria leaned back and let out a contented sigh. "No."

...

When Daria and John arrived at the school paper workroom, Jodie said, "What's going on?"

"Um, about what?" John said.

"The Fashion Club just set up a print run for some newsletter they're doing and they have Daria's name as the editor and yours as illustrator. When did I fall through the looking glass?"

Daria said, "It's called keeping my mom happy about college and scholarship applications."

"Oh, so you're selling out," Jodie teased.

"I like to look at it as preparation for getting the means to sell out," John said.

Jodie said, "So you're really doing it?"

"Unless they're writing in crayon, I'm sure I can edit whatever they give me into something useful," Daria said.

"And if they use crayons?"

"I'll give it to John to convert into an art project."

"Gee, thanks," he said.

...

The Fashion Club had gathered in Tiffany's room while Sandi went through their stories. "'Bright Colors on the Horizon,' 'Please Remember to Blush,' 'Low Heels and Rising Hems,' and 'Real Brows.' I think we're ready to go to print."

Quinn said, "Well, once we run things past Daria. She is the editor, after all."

"I can't think of anything she could add," Sandi said.

"Well, she did tell us to research things," Stacy said. "I mean, I was going to write something completely different. She really saved me from embarrassment."

"Okay, she might need to look over some of your stories."

"Yes, Sandi," Stacy said.

"I'm glad I can stop tweezing my eyebrows," Tiffany said. "It hurt."

...

Sitting on John's bed, Daria rubbed her eyes and set the stack of manuscripts aside. "Excessive smileys, pink ball point pens, delusions of royalty and an unhealthy fascination with eyebrows. My head hurts."

At his easel, John said, "My head hurts trying to figure out how to illustrate eyebrow sculpting."

"I'm starting to wonder if letting Mom find something would've been less painful."

"When did we sell out?"

"I'm not sure."

"Then how?"

"I think that came about showing my parents we could be responsible."

"And we became responsible."

"That's it."

"Damn."

"Yeah, growing up kinda sucks."

"I don't know. I think I could pass on being fourteen forever."

Daria frowned and said, "I could've passed on fourteen the first time."

...

Seated at the kitchen table with Helen, Jake looked at a stack of paper and said, "Now, what are we doing?"

"We're signing Daria and John's scholarship applications."

"Oh. Um…there's a lot of them."

"Things are a lot more complicated than when we went to college, Jake."

"Tell me about it. These things look like tax forms!"

Not wanting to get Jake started on that subject, Helen said, "They've shown a lot of initiative and personal responsibility in getting these ready."

"Hey, yeah. This really looks like a lot of work. I'm glad I didn't have to do it."

"And a lot of planning ahead," Helen said, her voice trailing off at the end.

"You're right. They really do seem to know where they're going."

Helen was quiet for a moment. "Yes...they do."

...

Stern, Sandi looked over her manuscript and said, "Your sister changed things all over my story."

"That's what editors do," Quinn said.

"Wow, this sounds a lot better," Stacy said as she read hers.

"Can we hire her for homework?" Tiffany said.

"Trust me, you can't afford her prices," Quinn said.

Sandi persisted, "Don't you think it was a little presumptuous?"

"It's what we asked her to do, Sandi. I think she did a great job on mine."

Sandi reread some more of her story and said, "I suppose it is a little bit clearer. As a symbol of my sense of cooperation, I'll go along with her changes."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate it," Quinn said. "Now to take this to the printers."

...

Under a banner that read, "Fashion Club Forecast," the four girls had gathered behind a table in a school corridor. A small crowd of mostly boys had gathered in front of the table and some were starting to look through the stacked newsletters.

Sandi said, "Friends and followers. As President of the Fashion Club, I am proud to announce the first issue of our cutting-edge publication. Predicting upcoming trends in personal deportment, while providing underwriting to a deserving cause."

Joey said, "Um, what are you selling?"

Sandi replied, "Perhaps I didn't make myself clear. Our newsletter is dedicated to the art of looking good, or at least better than those around you."

Jeffy said, "A fashion magazine? Uh…"

The boys began to walk away and Jamie said, "Uh, no."

"Next time," Joey said as he turned to leave.

Quinn said, "It'll tell you what kind of presents to buy for girls."

They ran back with Joey in the lead, saying, "Sure! I'll take one."

Jamie pushed him aside and yelled, "I'll take two!"

Moving around both, Jeffy said, "Make it three…uh, no, five!"

Watching from down the hall, John turned to Daria and said, "I never pictured them as the target audience."

"I just had a frightening thought," Daria said. "With the way she can manipulate guys, I hope she never goes into politics."

John shook his head as more guys purchased newsletters. "You're right; that is a frightening thought."

...

Jodie and Mack joined Daria and John at their cafeteria table and Jodie said, "Did you hear about Upchuck?"

"Was he in the latest bust at the downtown strip clubs?" Daria said.

"It wouldn't surprise me, but no. He has an interview today for the Wizard Foundation Scholarship. Ten thousand dollars. I wish I'd have heard about it sooner."

"Be glad," Daria said. "I saw it when I was doing the scholarship application thing. The CEO is a first-rate sleazebag. Picking Upchuck for an interview only confirms my decision not to apply."

Quinn rushed over to the table and set a copy of _Waif_ in front of Daria. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"Yes?" John said.

"We didn't get it exactly right, but we were close enough."

"What are we talking about?" Daria said.

"_Waif's_ 'What's Hot and What's Rot' issue is out and our forecasts were pretty good. If we'd have gone with our original ideas, oh my God, it would've been _so_ embarrassing."

"Oh, okay," John said. "So, does this mean full speed ahead on the mirror?"

"The girls of Lawndale owe you big time, Daria," Quinn said before hurrying away.

John said, "Let's hope success doesn't go to their heads."

Daria shrugged and said, "I'd be happier if the idea of doing proper research rubs off on them for their homework, but I'm not holding my breath."

...

Standing outside the door to the girls' bathroom, Daria said, "Aw, don't you want to see the fruits of your labor?"

John pointed to the door and said, "There are some things man was not meant to see."

"Coward."

"I prefer discreet," John said before giving Daria his Polaroid camera. "But you can take pictures."

"I'll be right back," Daria said, going into the restroom.

"I'll be here."

After a minute, Daria returned with photos in hand, still developing.

John said, "Two? How big is that mirror?"

"One's the mirror. The other is the congratulatory plaque to the Fashion Club for funding the mirror. I couldn't let you off without experiencing the full horror of the situation."

"Mr. Lane, Ms. Morgendorffer, there you are." Ms. Li's voice made the two shudder.

Daria said, "You've got our schedules. We're not that hard to find."

"Amusing, Ms. Morgendorffer. I wanted to congratulate you and Mr. Lane on the Fashion Club newsletter. It was a smashing success."

John said, "Does that mean we get bonus points for our extracurricular activities?"

"You can say that," Ms. Li replied.

Daria gave John one of her "What did you do?" looks.

Ms. Li said, "That newsletter made me realize that we have a gap in coverage for the school newspaper. A gap that the Fashion Club has agreed to fill."

Dreading the answer, Daria said, "The Fashion Club is going to write a column for the paper?"

"And you're going to be the Fashion Editor to pull it all together while Mr. Lane will provide the necessary artwork. Isn't it exciting?"

"Thrilling," Daria said.

John said, "I'm overjoyed."

"Well, kudos to you." Ms. Li glanced at her watch and said, "I've got an important meeting. The new column starts with the next issue. Good luck!"

After Ms. Li was well away, Daria said, "No good deed goes unpunished."

"Can it really be worse than tutoring Kevin and Brittany last year?"

"There were only two of them. There are four in the Fashion Club."

"Quinn's not really been that bad lately."

"Three then. Still worse."

John frowned. "You know, the sooner we get out of high school, the better off we're going to be."

"Someplace we can have some peace and quiet, together."

...

It was one of those rare days when Helen was home early from work and was preparing dinner. When Daria and John arrived, she rushed out of the kitchen and said, "Congratulations!"

Daria and John looked at each other.

"Okay," he said.

"For what?" Daria asked.

Helen went to the coffee table and picked up a couple of thick letters. "Scholarship foundations don't send thick letters unless you won. Congratulations."

"Um, cool," John said. He opened his letter and said, "Wow, that's really cool. Two thousand a year for four years from the Maryland Art League."

"That's wonderful, John," Helen said. "What about you, Daria?"

Daria read her letter. "Ten thousand from the American Writers Guild. And an invitation to send my sample story to _The Guild_ magazine."

"See what you can do when you really put your mind to it?" Helen said.

"I can't really complain, can I?" John said.

"Um, thanks for talking us into applying," Daria quickly said.

"You're most welcome, sweetie."

When the young couple started to turn away, Helen said, "There's something else I've been thinking about and now seems as good a time as any."

Daria said, "Mom?"

Helen braced herself and took a deep breath. "With all the looking at colleges and applying for scholarships, have you two thought about your future together?"

"Isn't that what we're doing?" John said,

"I don't think that was what Mom meant," Daria said.

"Okay, I'm dense," John said.

Helen said, "You and Daria. What are your plans once you leave here?"

John shrugged. "College, the usual."

"I mean, besides that. What are your plans _together_?

The question finally registered in John's head and he struggled for an answer before he finally said, "I, uh, don't know."

"Daria?"

Looking as much like a deer caught in headlights as John, she said, "I don't know, either."

Helen said, "I think you had better start thinking. It's going to be important. Trust me."

...

Some material from _The Story of D_ by Jacquelyn Reingold

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.

February – March 2010


	46. Substitute Plans

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the forty-sixth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

****

Substitute Plans

Ms. Ruiz paced back and forth in Principal Li's office beside Ms. Barch and Mr. DeMartino. "Might I remind you that was part of what made me agree to hire on to your school?"

Ms. Barch cut to the subject at hand. "Do we get our raise or not?"

Ms. Li calmly said, "Better! A new coffee maker in the teachers' lounge."

Mr. DeMartino leaned forward against Ms. Li's desk. "That's not an offer, that's an insult! Now, as head of the Lawndale Teacher's Union, I..."

Ms. Li cheerfully continued, "With some of those international flavors you can just squirt right out of a bottle. Mmm..."

Outside the principal's office, Daria and John found Upchuck peeking through the keyhole and saying, "Ooh, I like what I'm seeing..."

John said, "Upchuck, are you really getting that desperate? Even your average freshman has better porn than looking at Ms. Li."

Daria shuddered. "I'm surprised you haven't already gone blind, Upchuck."

Upchuck looked back with a broad grin. "Oh, get your minds out of the gutter, sheesh. No, we've got a cat-and-dogfight here. Me-ouch! And it's about to get strike-o-licious."

Mr. DeMartino sternly said, "Give us our ten percent or we'll walk!"

Ms. Li laughed out loud. "Oh, you will, will you? Well, I hope for your sake your negotiating skills have improved since the last time you tried to pull this stunt...or have you forgotten that the dental insurance was contingent on your teaching a sewing class?"

Mr. DeMartino could only grumble at that.

"Did you hem those pants yourself?"

His anger enflamed, Mr. DeMartino yelled, "That's it! We strike!"

Upchuck backpedaled away from the door as the defiant teachers left and the gathered students in the corridor cheered.

John looked at Daria. "Could we really be so lucky?"

Ms. Li immediately announced over the PA system, "Students of Lawndale High, your attention, please."

Daria said, "Ten says no."

Ms. Li said, "In an unprecedented show of spine - I mean, spite - your teachers have announced a strike. However, school will continue just as before."

The other students groaned as the PA clicked off and John handed the ten over to Daria.

Still at her desk, Ms. Li said to the empty room, "It just won't involve teachers."

* * *

Frazzled and frustrated, Ms. Li pored through the personnel files of the available substitutes. "Damn, she's only taught first grade. These kids will eat her alive and blame their indigestion on the cafeteria."

She looked at the next file. "Inappropriate touching? Like I need that kind of a headache right now."

Next file. "Wait a minute, that's the address foroh, forget it."

Ms. Li snatched the next file from the stack and read it. "Caught with a mix of MD20/20 and Jaegermeister in his lunch box?"

She pushed her chair back and stared up at the ceiling. "Where am I going to find enough substitutes to fill in for all those backstabbing teachers?

All I need to do is keep the students from burning down the school for a few days until the teachers' will runs out. It's not like they need to do anything difficult, like teach Kevin Thompson or"

Eyes gleaming with her new idea, Ms. Li rocked forward and opened a drawer of student files. She selected four of them and said, "I'm sure that there will be no difficulty in explaining to their parents how valuable this experience will look on college applications and to the school board how much money it will save. Crisis solved."

* * *

Jodie and Mack were already waiting in Ms. Li's office when Daria and John arrived. Jodie whispered, "You, too?"

"I was about to say the same thing," Daria replied as she and John took the two remaining seats.

Ms. Li said, "I'm sure you're curious as to why I summoned you here today?"

"More like worried," John said.

Ms. Li gave him a tired smile. "It's my pleasure to offer you an unexpected opportunity."

"Now, I'm worried," Daria said.

Ms. Li ignored her. "I've already spoken to your parents."

Jodie said, "Now I'm getting worried."

"And they are in complete agreement."

Mack said, "We're screwed."

Ms. Li gave him a look, but went on to say, "Each of you has shown a splendid ability to teach and lead. Therefore, you will be standing in for some of your teachers during the current strike."

"Standing in? As in substitute teaching?" Daria said.

"Yes, Ms. Morgendorffer."

"Don't substitutes normally get paid at least minimum wage?"

"No need," Ms. Li said. "This is a special learning opportunity that the school board has already approved. Your pay will be the experience of sharing your knowledge with your fellow students and getting a leg up on your peers if or when you go on to graduate school."

"And saving you money." Daria sighed. "Okay, what are our assignments?"

"Ms. Morgendorffer. You will take over for Ms. Ruiz in English. Ms. Landon, you will replace Mr. DeMartino. Mr. MacKenzie, you'll fill in for Coach Gibson and Mr. Lane, you will substitute for Ms. DeFoe. Any questions?"

John said, "Do we get bullet-proof vests to cross the picket line?"

Daria said, "Ms. Li. Teaching is going to be a time-consuming task that will cut into our other extracurricular activities, such as editing and illustrating the fashion news at the _Lawndale Lowdown_.

"Don't worry, Ms. Morgendorffer," Ms. Li said. "I will make sure that your other school responsibilities will be adequately covered. I will have the Editor-In-Chief, Ms. Waters, find temporary replacements. Your teaching will take priority."

Jodie said, "Student Council President?"

"That's why you have a Vice-President. Mr. MacKenzie?"

"I don't have to pretend to like Ms. Morris, do I?"

"I don't expect the impossible. Besides, she's on strike, too."

* * *

The four had gathered for pizza at the usual hangout. Over her slice, Jodie said, "I can almost hear my father being proud of me for my first union-busting activity."

Mack said, "With how much I'm scrambling to pay for college, my folks are behind anything that can help."

"You'll never know what kind of doors this will open for you, sweetie," Daria said, mimicking her mother even if she couldn't replicate the tone properly.

John said, "And with my B-C average, Helen will go for anything that'll help me, too. We're stuck."

"You know, this place really does make you regret doing the right things," Jodie said.

"That sounds like me," Daria said.

"I'm starting to agree with your point of view more and more all the time."

Mack said, "So that's why you sent off for that application from Turner College."

"Shh!" Jodie said. "I don't want my parents to find out yet."

"Like Daria and John are going to say something, anything, to anyone?"

"Oh, yeah." Jodie said. "Sorry, Daria, John."

"No harm," John said.

"I take it that Turner is not in the Landon Family Plan."

Jodie rolled her eyes. "Mom and Dad are dead set on me going to Crestmore so that I can make all these great connections."

John said, "That sounds like Helen. Jake would be thrilled if we went to their old college, Middleton."

"That's the thing," Jodie said. "My parents went to Turner. My grandmother was in the first class to admit women. But no, I have to go to the high and mighty Crestmore. It sucks."

Mack said, "Um, change of subject. Well, back to the original subject. What are we going to do about teaching? How do we handle the students?"

"In your case," John said, "I'd recommend a cattle prod. Watching Boys P.E. is more a matter of making sure that they don't wreck the building than it is of actually trying to teach them anything."

"That is, when coach isn't trying to make it an extra football practice," Mack said.

Daria and Jodie grumbled, "Better than cheerleader practice."

"Uh-oh," John said. "Jenna doesn't look happy."

Jenna Waters had entered the pizza place and looked around. After briefly nodding at Daria and John, she spotted the Fashion Club and swiftly walked over to them. "Good afternoon, ladies."

Sandi said, "Um, Jenna. We might, like, work with you, but we don't expect you to hang out with us."

Jenna ignored her. "Quinn, Ms. Li pulled Daria away from editorial duties for the fashion column. I don't have time to specifically edit the column and hold onto the rest of the paper, so I'm making you editor of the fashion column."

"Me?" Quinn said.

"Yes, you. Staff meeting is tomorrow after school. I expect you to be there."

"But there's the Cruisewear Craziness at Cashman's!"

"I'm sure the rest of your collaborators can fill you in on the details. I'll see you tomorrow."

Stacy said, "I'm so sorry, Quinn."

"We're going to miss you," Tiffany said.

"What did your sister do to leave you in such an awful situation?" Sandi said.

"I don't know, but I'm about to find out," Quinn replied. She stood and firmly walked over to Daria. "Okay, what's going on? Jenna just told me that I'm taking over for you at the paper."

"Daria said, "That's because I, along with my esteemed colleagues here, have been assigned as substitute teachers at school. Starting tomorrow."

"What?" Quinn said, loud enough to be heard throughout the room.

"We're going to be substitute teachers," John said.

Panicked, Quinn asked, "What did Mom say?"

Daria cocked her head. "What do you think?"

"Oh, God."

"And she's going to be thrilled to learn about your new extracurricular activity," Daria said. In a softer voice, she said, "And I think, if you put your mind to it, you can do a good job."

Quinn looked back at the Fashion Club. "I don't have a choice."

* * *

"Hey!" Jake said over dinner. "Does that mean that you get faculty parking?"

John dope-slapped his forehead. "Why didn't we think of that?"

"Because we were too worried about having something we're totally unprepared for dumped in our laps?" Daria said.

"Oh, Daria," Helen said. "I think you are probably the most prepared people I can think of."

Daria said, "Um, thanks. But you still could've tried to negotiate a cash salary for us. At least minimum wage."

"Hey, can we work for tips?" John said.

Quinn laughed. "Like any of the school's students are going to pay you?"

"Worth a try?"

"And Quinn," Helen said. "I'm so pleased to hear about you stepping up to the plate with the fashion column in the student paper. It shows just how much you're growing, too."

"Does Ms. Li have you on speed-dial or something?" Quinn said.

"It's what an involved parent does, Quinn," Helen said. "But Daria was the one who made sure I knew about your promotion."

Quinn glared at Daria, who innocently looked down at her plate. "Look, glazed carrots."

* * *

Working at his easel, John said, "We get out of our other classes. That's a plus."

"But we're still responsible for the homework. The minuses cancel out the plusses," Daria replied from where she sat at his computer.

"Gym doesn't have homework."

"Plus."

"We don't have to run back and forth to our lockers every fifty minutes."

"Plus. But we're stuck in one room all day."

John admitted, "Minus. We'll get to buy lunch from the faculty line. Less waiting."

"So that we can get food poisoning sooner," Daria said.

"But they get the better grade of bad food."

"Oh yeah. They get the stuff billy goats can barely choke down."

"Coffee."

"That's a plus for you."

"And tea."

"Okay, plus for me."

"You know, if we play this right, this gig might not be so bad," John said.

"Don't jinx it," Daria said. "Don't jinx it."

"I thought you weren't superstitious."

"I'm not. I'm realistic. If we get our hopes up too much, something will go wrong. That's not superstition; that's the cold face of reality."

"I always thought that was the cold face of Lawndale."

"Either one works."

* * *

Jodie stood at the blackboard and said, "Otherwise, consider me the same as Mr. DeMartinowithout the eye problem."

Kevin Thompson said, "Cool. Does that mean we can call you Mrs. DeMartino?"

"Eww, Kevvie!" Brittany said, slapping his arm.

"Just call me Jodie."

* * *

Holding a baseball bat, Mack walked back and forth in front of a pile of baseball gear while the gathered freshman and sophomores watched. He said, "I found this equipment in the back of the storage room and, since it's spring, I thought we've give it a try."

One of the boys said, "I remember that stuff from Little League."

"The rules for baseball haven't changed," Mack said, "Even if the sport is mostly forgotten at Lawndale High."

"Where are we going to play?" another boy said.

Mack looked at the football practice field. "We'll have to measure space off over there. Extra credit for any useful help."

* * *

One of the art students pointed to the pile of drawing mannequins on the display table and said, "We're supposed to draw that?"

John nodded. "Yep. And then, do something with it. Show why they're in the pile."

"Um, how?" another student asked.

"Any way you like. Use your imagination."

The first student said, "Imagination?"

"I know you've got it and it's time to turn it loose."

* * *

Her feet planted firmly apart, Daria faced the English class and said, "I'm not going to waste most of the class playing twenty questions. Quinn, what play are you reading?"

At the back of the room with the rest of the Fashion Club, Quinn shrank down an inch before saying, "Romeo and Juliet."

"Okay, we know where to begin. Now, I have another question for you. Did anybody remember to bring a copy of the book to class?"

Nobody moved.

"Anybody?"

Silence.

"Bueller?"

Still nothing.

Daria sighed and went to the bookshelf at the back of the room. After a short search, she found a worn paperback copy of the book. "In that case, everyone will just have to share this one."

When Sandi gasped, Daria turned. "Think of it as motivation to bring your book tomorrow. Since you've got my attention, why don't we start the reading with you, Sandi?"

* * *

Mack joined Jodie already with Daria and John outside the cafeteria. "Where are we going to eat? Teachers or students section?"

"After listening to students mangle Shakespeare all morning, I vote for the teachers."

"Now I really know why the teachers eat separately when they're not on cafeteria duty," Jodie said.

"I'll take a look at how the upper crust eats," John said. "Besides, I want coffee."

Mack said, "Count me in."

* * *

After emerging from the much shorter line, the four looked at some of the other substitutes in the faculty lounge with trepidation. John said, "Hey, why don't we eat out on the lawn instead? The fresh air will do us some good. Okay, Mack, you've probably had plenty of fresh air, but this won't smell like week-old gym clothes."

"Fine with me," Mack said.

Jodie said, "I can only go so far as a scab. Let's eat by ourselves."

Daria shrugged. "Outcast from both students and faculty. Did we really expect anything different?"

Jodie said, "A half an hour of peace and quiet. That's different."

Daria gave her a brief smile. "You're on."

* * *

"I'm beat," Jodie said as she and the others ate their lunch. "The only good thing that I can think of is that I've been excused from my extracurriculars."

"I'm with you on that," said John.

Mack said, "I'd almost say that Art can't be that bad, but something tells me that creative types find creative ways to get into trouble."

"It's a good thing that paint pigments don't explode," John said.

Looking over her shoulder, Ms. DeFoe fast-walked to the four teenagers. "John, we need your help."

"My help?" he asked.

"What 'we?'" Daria said.

Ms. DeFoe held a picket sign. "Ms. Barch's signs, well, they're not working."

Jodie said, "Why did Ms. Barch make the signs?"

"She volunteered."

John sighed and said, "What can I do?"

Ms. DeFoe said, "We need some more signs, right away."

"Im fast, but I can only do a couple of signs before the end of the day, what with keeping an eye on your classroom and such."

Daria noticed a glint in the art teacher's eye. "John, I don't think she wants you to paint the signs."

"Then whatah, I see," John said, understanding the idea. "I can do subversion."

Mack said, "What if Ms. Li walks in on you?"

"We'll have to make sure that Ms. Li stays busy," Jodie said.

* * *

John walked among the busy art students. "That's good. Sticking it to the man means big designs and primary colors."

A freshman boy leaned over and asked the girl beside him, "Why are we helping the teachers?"

The girl answered, "Because it will annoy Ms. Li."

"Cool, I can do that."

* * *

Standing in the door of Ms. Ruiz's room, Ms. Li said, "Ms. Morgendorffer. While I appreciate your caution, I can assure you that no parent has complained about the tights and codpieces shown on the cover of _Romeo and Juliet_."

* * *

"Please carry on, Ms. Landon," Ms. Li said as she moved to exit the history room. "There is no need to worry about using the words 'carpetbaggers' and 'scalawags' when discussing Reconstruction. They are legitimate historical terms and are not forbidden by the school's diversity policy."

* * *

Outside of the gymnasium, Ms. Li said, "Mr. MacKenzie, just use the damn cattle prod!"

* * *

In the workroom of the _Lawndale Lowdown_, Sandi said, "It's bad enough that your sister and her geeky friends have been teachers all week, but I think this whole strike thing is going to your head."

Having just handed back edited material, Quinn said, "Sandi, it's not going to my head. I'm only doing what Daria would do to make sure that _all_ of us look good. Okay, she does it because she has this thing for grammar and such while I want do it for my friends."

Stacy said, "I really like your idea for my article, Quinn. I'm going to use it right away."

Sandi sighed and sat down. "Maybe you should make Quinn President of the Fashion Club?"

"But, Sandi, if we do that, how will I have time to edit our column?" Quinn said. "I could never do everything you do and still look over everything."

Tiffany said, "Yeah, Sandi. You do a lot."

"Very well, then," Sandi said. "In that case, I think we need to explore the latest arrivals at Cashman's. Or have you all forgotten that today is delivery day?"

Glancing at Jenna watching from her office, Quinn said, "And that's why youre the President and I'm only the editor."

"Thank you, Quinn," Sandi said, visibly relieved at backing away from her self doubts. "Let's go."

Still watching, Jenna said, "Hmm."

* * *

Jodie wrote on the blackboard, "Test Tomorrow." Hearing the student groans, she turned around. "Look at it this way. You only have to answer the test once. I have to read every one of them. Trust me, I'm going to be far more tired of the questions than you are."

Kevin said, "Soyou're going to read each test paper?"

"That's right, Kevin."

"But, um, don't they all say the same thing?"

"Not after you answer the questions," Jodie said. As she turned back to the board, she added, "And not all the test papers will have the questions in the same order."

The grumbling from the students told her it was a good idea. Jodie went back to writing on the board. "These are your review topics for the test. If it's covered by the topics, it's fair game."

* * *

Tiffany slowly read, "For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo."

Daria said, "Thank you, Tiffany. That was verysteady. Now that we've learned that teenage romances in the Middle Ages were even more complicated than ours, it's time for a test. Tomorrow." Hearing the complaints, Daria said, "Don't blame me, orders from on high. But you should be used to it by now. Ms. Ruiz never misses the chance for a test and this is no different."

Jeffy said, "But, um, you're different from Ms. Ruiz."

Daria glanced down very briefly. _About four inches shorter and four inches less inother dimensions._ "Very observant, Jeffy. But, I still have to show that I made some effort to squeeze Shakespeare into your brains. So, test."

* * *

Running late, Daria joined John, Jodie and Mack at what had become their preferred dining spot outside. "I wonder if the tests tomorrow are for the students or for Ms. Li to check on us."

Mack said, "Does it really matter?"

Daria sat down. "Probably not."

"It's going to matter if one of my eyes starts to bulge out like Mr. DeMartino's," Jodie said.

"I don't think Ms. DeFoe has ever given a test," John said. "What do I do, ask them to draw a line?"

"It would make grading easy," Mack said. "I'm giving a test on the rules for baseball."

John said, "Planning on flunking the entire lot?"

"I figure I can keep the failure rate down to thirty percent if I stick with the basics and ignore the infield fly rule or pinch hitters."

"There you are," Jenna said, walking over to the four. "Daria, can I have a moment?"

"No rest for the wicked," Daria said, rising and motioning Jenna aside. "What's up?"

Jenna glanced around before saying, "I know you weren't too happy about editing the fashion column."

"That's an understatement."

"How would you like to go back to just writing your column?"

"Interested. What do you want?"

"For you to back me making Quinn the Fashion Editor."

"Do you think she's up to it?"

"She's a little rough, but I think she can grow into it with a little help from both of us."

"Hmm, I can do that. One more thing, get John off illustration duty," Daria said.

"I can do that, too."

"Done."

"Done."

* * *

As she entered the study, Kay Sloane said, "Oh, Quinn. How nice to see you."

"Hi, Mrs. Sloane," Quinn said. "We're getting ready for some tests tomorrow."

"Why have a study if we're not going to use it for its designed purpose?" Tom said.

"How true," Kay said. "What subjects?"

Quinn held up her book. "English. _Romeo and Juliet_."

"How wonderful. I've always loved that story."

Tom said, "Philosophy. Early nineteenth century."

"Dear, me."

"My thoughts, exactly," Tom said.

"Good luck, children," Kay said. "Angier and I will be in the parlor if you need anything."

"Thanks, Mrs. Sloane."

"Thanks, Mom."

After Kay left, Quinn set her book down. "Thanks for tolerating me while I study. It was too weird to be in the same house with Daria while she's writing the test I'm studying for."

"I can see that," Tom said. "I wonder what she's coming up with."

"I hate to think about it."

* * *

Notebook in hand, Daria sat at her computer desk. "I'm jealous," she told John, who was lying on her bed, doodling.

"Art's about drawing, so I'm telling them to draw something," he said.

"You stole the idea from those art school ads in magazines."

John sat up. "I would never subject my students to Spunky the mutt."

"No, you're going to subject them to something from your vivid imagination."

"Exactly. Easy test to write and it covers what I need."

"I wish I could get away with something like that."

"Why can't you?"

Daria turned her head. "Wait a minute; I can." She scribbled something in her notebook and then sat back. "Done."

"That was quick," John said.

Daria went over to him and sat on the bed, bending over to kiss him. "I thought of something better to do since Mom talked Dad into going out to dinner for a date night and Quinn's at Tom's"

John grinned. "I like the way you think."

* * *

Curiously finding the house empty and quiet, Quinn walked up the stairs. As she reached the upper landing, she saw John, wearing shorts and a rumpled t-shirt, carrying two empty ice cream dishes. "Hey, Quinn," he said.

"Hi, John."

"Good night studying?"

"I guess. Good night test writing?"

"You could say that." John continued past and down the stairs. "Pardon me; I need to put these into the dishwasher."

At her door, Quinn glanced at Daria's partially open door. "Wait a minuteno, I don't want to know. I don't want to know at all," she said before escaping into her room and closing the door.

* * *

"What _Romeo and Juliet_ meant to me. Two hundred words, minimum. Any questions?" Daria told the English class.

Jamie held up his hand. "Umwhat it means to me?"

"Exactly," Daria said. "Don't try to guess what it meant to Shakespeare and don't even try to guess my opinion. Oh, and don't even mention the movies."

Joey, Jeffy and Jamie looked at each other, then shrugged and started writing.

"Any other questions?" Daria said.

Sandi lifted her hand. "What if we didn't like it?"

"Then tell me why you thought it sucked and back it up."

"Oh."

Daria sat at the desk. "You'd better get started. You only have until the end of class."

* * *

John took a quick look at each sketch as he collected the tests. "Good, good. I like what I'm seeing."

"You're weird," one of the sophomores said. "But a good weird."

"It'll take that as a compliment," John said.

* * *

A freshman complained to Mack, "You didn't tell us there was going to be math on this test."

"What?" Mack said.

"Question two."

"How many strikes before a batter is out? There's no math involved. You just remember the number."

"That's a lot to remember."

"That's why the test is multiple choice."

* * *

At his new desk, Kevin looked around the room. "Hey, Jodie. I can't see anyone's test."

"That's the idea, Kevin," Jodie said.

"You mean, I have to fill out the test myself?"

"Yes, Kevin."

"Aw, man."

Feeling the pressure in her right eye, Jodie closed it and turned away from the class.

* * *

After reviewing the submitted fashion column, Jenna said, "Excellent work. Excellent."

Sandi said, "We always do our best."

"Our best," Tiffany repeated.

Eager to go, Stacy said, "Hey, guys, we still have time to get to the Mall for the Spring Accessories Preview."

Jenna smiled and said, "Research. Go on." After Sandi, Tiffany and Stacy had stepped out of the door, Jenna said, "Good work, Quinn. You make a good editor."

"Um, thanks, Jenna."

Quinn hurried after the others. "Let's go."

* * *

With a large pizza between them, John, Daria, Jodie and Mack camped out at a booth to grade tests.

"Essay, fill in the blank, multiple choice and, um, freehand drawing. I think we covered almost every testing form out there," Mack said.

Jodie said, "I'm beginning to understand how stressful teaching can be. I hope the teachers get their raise."

"Me, too," Mack said. "And I don't have half the stress you haveexcept my students are carrying around real weapons."

"Real weapons?" Jodie said.

"Baseball bats."

"Oh, yeah. I can see where that would be bad."

"You know," Daria said, "it hasn't been as bad as I thought. Granted, I felt like I was trying to push my way through waist-deep mud, but I think I got through to some of them."

Jodie sat back. "Did I just hear something positive out of Daria about her fellow students?"

"I think you did," Mack said.

"It won't happen again," Daria said, dropping her attention back to her papers.

* * *

Over dinner, Helen asked, "How are your teaching experiences going?"

"Daria gave us an essay test today," Quinn said. "I bet she did it just to annoy me."

"Daria?" Helen asked.

Catching the tone of Quinn's voice, Daria said, "Anything for my sister. I wouldn't want your writing skills to get rusty."

"That's my kids," Jake said.

Helen looked at each, sighed and said, "John?"

"I gave a test today, too. I'm grading on a creative curve."

"Creative curve?" Helen said.

"The more creative, the more I curve the grade. Actually, the kids haven't been that bad."

"Thanks, John. Quinn, how do you feel about covering for Daria as fashion editor?"

"It's not too bad," Quinn said. "I had a good teacher."

* * *

As the students looked over their work, John walked back to the front of the room. "Not bad. Not bad at all."

One of the students said, "I've never gotten a 'B+' before. Do you think I've improved that much?"

"You still need to work on technique, butyour imagination is well on its way to where it needs to be."

"Cool."

Another student said, "Can we do another project like this? I thought it was fun."

John looked over the class. _I don't know how to teach art technique as well as I thought, but it looks like I succeeded in teaching them to be imaginative, if only a little bit._

* * *

"Hey, Coach Mack!" a sophomore yelled. "What about our tests?"

"I'll hand them back at the end of class," Mack said. _That way, I don't have to hear you complain about your grades._ Taking up the umpire position behind home plate, he called, "Play ball!" _At least all of you learned to play, even if you can't answer questions on a test._

* * *

"Whoa, I got a 'B,'" Joey said.

Moving on, Daria said, "Though I never pictured you listening to classic rock, I'm glad you caught the relationship between the song and the play."

When she got to Sandi, Daria said, "I don't think that they had a Cashman's in medieval Verona, but overall, you found a, let's say, unique, way to critique Shakespeare."

Sandi accepted the grade and said, "Just because you're stuck in the Middle Ages, it doesn't mean that you can't look good."

Tiffany accepted hers. "You thought Juliet needed a facial, too?"

"No, but you had same interesting insights."

Stacy said, "Maybe all that writing we've been doing for the paper has helped out." She looked up. "And, um, maybe we've had some good advice."

Daria smiled and placed Quinn's test on her desk. "I think all of you are going to be okay."

* * *

"A 'C,' aw, right!" Kevin said as he saw his grade. "That reading the book thing really helped!"

"Yes, it does," Jodie said. "Didn't Daria suggest that to you last year?"

"Oh, yeah. But, um"

"Don't explain, Kevin," Jodie said. "Just don't explain."

Brittany twirled her hair and said, "Jodie, what's wrong with your eye?"

Ms. Li's barely-coherent voice came over the P.A. system. "People of Mars! I mean, students of Lawndale High. This is your leader...um, principal. What was I saying? Oh! The teachers...the teachers...the strike's over! Your teachers will be back tomorrow! Good ni... day."

Jodie rested her head on the blackboard. "Mr. DeMartino, they're all yours."

* * *

To the gathered newspaper staff, Jenna said, "Welcome back, Daria, John."

"As hard as this may be to believe, I'm glad I'm back," Daria said.

John smirked and said, "Because this is less work than teaching."

Jenna walked toward Quinn. "With everyone here, I'd like to announce a small change. Daria and John will no longer work on the fashion column and can spend more time on their regular projects."

Scared, Stacy said, "But what about us?"

"I'm pleased to announce that I'm making Quinn the new Fashion Editor."

"Me?" Quinn said, honestly surprised.

"I think you've proven yourself," Jenna said.

Sandi started to glare at Quinn but softened and said, "It will be nice to have one of _us_ as the editor. It should make things go smoother."

Stacy said, "Congratulations, Quinn!"

"Yay, Quinn," Tiffany said.

Quinn glanced at Daria and saw the small smile. "You knew."

Daria shrugged.

* * *

Back at the pizza place, John, Daria, Jodie and Mack shared a celebratory pizza. Mack stood and raised a slice as a toast. "Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty we are free at last."

The others raised their slices and then took bites.

Daria said, "Jodie, how's your eye? It's still looking a little red."

"Sore, but better. Thanks."

John said, "So, do we chalk this whole thing up as a learning experience?"

Daria elbowed him. "You didn't have to say that."

"Come on," John replied. "If I hadn't, someone would've or we'd have exploded."

"That would've been entertaining," Daria said.

Jodie set her slice down. "I gained a big appreciation for what teachers go through, but I swear that I'm never going to do that again."

"Riding herd on the football team was one thing, but six classes a day? Not for a living."

"You must've had some appreciation," John said. "You put all the baseball gear away and the practice field doesn't look any different."

Mack said, "Coach Gibson's been through enough."

"You two seem to be unscathed," Jodie said.

John said, "I stuck with what I knew and things kind of worked out."

Daria was quiet for a couple of seconds. "Actually, I think I did learn something."

* * *

Some material from _Lucky Strike_ by Peter Elwell

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.  
May-June 2010


	47. Another Look in the Mirror

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the forty-seventh John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Another Look in the Mirror**

"Ouch," John Lane said as he paid the technician at 24 Hour Photo.

"Sorry, dude, I don't set the prices," the guy said.

John picked up the bag of mounted photographic slides and page holders. "How often do you develop this many, anyway?"

The technician handed John his change. "Never, since I've been here. What's up?"

"Art portfolios for my college applications."

"Ah, I get it. But man, that's expensive."

"Tell me about it."

"Good luck, dude."

"Thanks."

Daria was waiting in their blue car as he came out of the photo store. She started it and said, "Success?"

"Yeah. Now to sort them and get them into the pages. Be glad that all you had to do was print out writing samples."

Daria checked over her shoulder for approaching traffic before pulling out into the street. "I'll take it."

"With a little luck, we can get this done tonight and in the mail tomorrow so that your mom will get off of our case."

"And Dad will stop dropping hints about Middleton."

* * *

John dropped a slide page into the large envelope, sealed it and placed it onto the large pile on the dining table. "Last one."

"The post office is going to like seeing us tomorrow," she said.

"I hope this works."

"With how many applications we're sending out, the odds are good that we'll be accepted to colleges in the same city, or maybe even the same college."

Tom followed Quinn into the kitchen. She took a can of regular and a can of diet soda from the refrigerator for them while he said, "College applications. Got mine off last week."

Watching them while slicing vegetables for dinner, Helen said, "Where are you applying, Tom?"

"Bromwell. It's a family tradition. Or sentence. I'm not sure which."

"Bromwell's an excellent school. Daria, is it on your application list?"

"I hadn't planned on it," Daria said. "Currently, Raft is my top choice."

"And Boston Fine Arts College is at the top of my list," John said.

"Which only improves our odds of being in the same town," Daria said. "I won't mind Boston."

Helen said, "It's good to see you planning ahead."

"Purely out of selfish reasons," Daria said.

Helen smiled and nodded. "You want to stay close."

"Well, yeah," John said. "You'd asked us a while back about our plans. We're planning on going to college in the same town so that we can see each other."

Helen set the knife down on the cutting board. "What are your plans for living arrangements?"

Daria said, "Most schools require freshmen to live on campus. I guess that's one way to boost dorm occupancy."

Carefully choosing her words, Helen said, "You've grown comfortable living together. Being apart, even if just across campus, will be a big change for the two of you."

John said, "I was kind of expecting that you would be for us living in the dorms."

"I'm for you being happy," Helen said.

"Thanks, Mom," Daria said.

"So, you would be okay if we got our own apartment?" John asked.

Helen held her breath for a moment before answering. "You've earned my confidence that you will make a good decision."

The cordless phone rang and Helen said, "I'll get it," as she picked it up. "Hello? Oh, hello, Mom."

John quickly stood and went behind Helen to move the kitchen knife away from her hand.

Helen listened and then said, "What? Erin and Brian are getting divorced?"

"Ugh, and I spent all day in that bridesmaid dress," Quinn said.

Daria said, "John, you can relax. That means your garter is null and void."

Tom said, "Garter?"

Quinn said, "He caught the garter at Erin's wedding. Well, more like, it hit the ground closest to his feet."

"Why does the phrase 'flowing down hill' come to mind?" John said.

Helen said, "There's an associate in the office that specializes in divorce law, I canMom, divorces are not simple."

Keeping his face toward Helen, John shuffled back to the table and started to pick up the applications. "Let's get these out of here before autodetonation occurs. I don't want to redo all of this."

"Agreed," Daria said, joining him.

Quinn elbowed Tom and whispered, "Time to make a graceful exit."

"Mom, I'm not even a full partner yet," Helen said.

Tom whispered back to Quinn, "Gotcha."

With pleased surprise, Helen said, "You really heard that? Oh, my. Of course I want Erin to get the best legal advice possible. I'll handle it. Don't worry."

John, along with Daria, hurried past Tom and Quinn.

They saw Jake in the living room, walking toward the kitchen. John shook his head and said, "Run, Jake, run."

* * *

"Here she comes," Quinn warned Tom and the rest of her family, all seated in the living room.

On the TV, the announcer said, "In this canine go-go bar, the specialty of the house is Hot Dog! Lap dancing lap dogs next, on Sick, Sad World."

Helen set the cordless phone on the end of the kitchen counter before she went to the others. "I'm sure that you heard the news. Erin and Brian are getting divorced."

"And it sounds like you're on the case," Daria said.

"Mother made a convincing argument. Erin's going to be here on Saturday."

Jake groaned, "Oh, lord. Does that mean Rita's coming over?"

Helen said, "For once, I'm glad Mom is spending money on my sister. Rita will be at a spa in Switzerland, calming Erin's nerves."

"Wait a minute," John said. "How does oh."

"You're learning Barksdale logic," Daria said.

"Now this is going to be a difficult time for Erin," Helen said. "I want all of you to be supportive. She's family."

Tom whispered to Quinn, "Just go along, right?"

She whispered back, "It's safer that way."

* * *

Almost ready for bed, John took a t-shirt from his dresser and pulled it over his head. As his head cleared the shirt, he noticed the dusty garter sitting on his shelf. Curious, he picked it up, blew the dust away and stared at the small elastic band.

_That means your garter is null and void._ Daria's comment came to mind. He thought back to that evening two years before and felt a twinge of dismay.

* * *

With Jake, Daria, John and Quinn seated on the sofas, Helen addressed the family. "Erin will be here soon. This is a difficult time and she's going to need all the help and support we can give her."

"Meaning that we can expect much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth," John said. When Helen gave him a cross look, he said, "Between Wind and Summer, I've watched the whole divorce thing go down before."

Helen nodded, her expression changing. "So, you have. Then you're familiar with the need to be understanding."

"I've usually wanted to throttle them before I got to that point, but I'll give it a try this time," John said. "Your family's not quite as screwed up as the Lanes."

"I" Helen started to say something, but then stopped. "I'm sure we'll appreciate your experience."

"Then I suggest that we hide all of the breakables."

"I don't think it will come to that," Helen said, then turned away to whisper, "I hope."

* * *

"Aunt Helen, thank you so very much," Erin said as she hugged Helen at the door. She was certainly not the cheerful bride they had last seen. Her hair was dull and lifeless while her eyes were dark and tired.

Helen brought her in and closed the door. "I'm so sorry that all of this is necessary, but I'm going to do everything in my power to help you."

"I just want out."

"Understandable, but I'm also going to make sure you're protected."

"Thanks." Erin looked around the room and saw the rest of the family. "All of you look good. I'm sorry that all you went through at the wedding was for nothing."

Quinn thought of what she'd learned about Daria's storytelling that weekend. "Not entirely for nothing. I learned to appreciate something about Daria."

Erin faintly smiled. "At least it wasn't a total waste."

Quinn waved her hand at Daria and John. "And I think you gave those two ideas."

Erin's shoulders slumped. "I hope I'm not ruining them with my divorce."

Helen guided Erin to the sofa and sat her down. She lifted a bowl from among several on the coffee table and said, "I made some snacks. Why don't you relax for a few minutes before we start?"

"Okay," Erin meekly said.

* * *

With Helen and Erin earnestly at work in the kitchen, Quinn herded Daria and John up the stairs to the hallway between their rooms. "I really feel bad for Erin. She looks so lonely."

"Even I would say that she looks worse for wear," Daria replied.

John said, "That's about what Summer looked like when she came home. I hope that doesn't mean that Erin's going to have a psycho meltdown before the weekend is over."

"How bad?" Daria said.

"Do you remember what I said about breakables?"

"Yes."

"My mother makes pottery."

"Oh."

"Took me and Trent a week to pick up."

"Hey, kids," Jake said as he sneaked up the stairs. "Can I join you?"

"Um, okay, Dad," Quinn said.

"Helen's got that lawyer look on her face" Jake said.

Daria said, "You mean the one that could be used for a Shark Week ad?"

"That's it."

John went to the railing and looked down. "Not that I have any sympathy for him, but Brian is so screwed."

Daria joined him. "Don't you know it."

_I hope I never really do,_ he thought.

* * *

Carrying a stack of magazines, Quinn came down the stairs and looked around. Daria and John were watching television and she walked over to them while taking a quick glance at her mother and Erin still working in the kitchen. "How's it going?" she asked.

"No explosions, yet," Daria said. "But they've only been at it for an hour since lunch."

Quinn said, "Only an hour?"

"I think they were doing some of that female bonding I've heard about," John said.

"You mean Erin was bitching about Brian," Quinn said.

Daria said, "Good call."

Quinn sat down and placed her magazines on the table. "I should know better than to ask, but what kind of makeover do you think I should give Erin?"

Daria lifted one eyebrow and said, "The 'I'm me and not somebody else' makeover?"

Quinn sighed. "You know, Daria, sometimes it helps to be somebody else for a little while. And you know I'm right because you do it, too."

"What do you mean?" Daria said. "I'm always me."

"Not when you write. Then, you become somebody else. You're an action hero, or a spy, or the heroine of some historical plot. It's the same thing. We just do it in different ways."

"She's got a point," John said.

"_Et tu_?"

John shrugged. "Just like me creating new realities in my mind when I paint."

Daria sat back, accepting John's comparison. "Quinn, then how about something about starting over?"

Quinn shuffled through the magazines. "Newly single and sizzling."

John said, "How about single and wiser?"

Quinn looked at him. "I don't have anything like that."

"Sure you do," Daria said and then tapped a finger on Quinn's temple. "Inside there."

Confused, Quinn said, "What?"

"You've got all the makeup and makeover information you need in your head already," Daria said. "You just have to put it together."

"It's like doing a painting. Lay out your composition and then choose the right media to make it," John said.

Daria continued the thought, "Only instead of paint, you use makeup."

"It's almost the same thing," John said. "Pigment in a carrier applied with a brush."

Quinn said, "You two are weird."

"But right," Daria said.

Quinn sat back in exactly the same way Daria had seconds before. "How do you two do that?"

"Why didn't you mention a pre-nup before now?" Helen suddenly yelled, causing everyone to jump.

Daria stood and grabbed John and Quinn's hands. "Time to go."

"Where?" Quinn asked.

"Anywhere," John said as Daria pulled them toward the front door.

"What about Dad?"

"I'm sorry, Quinn. But he's on his own."

* * *

As soon as Tom arrived at the Pizza Prince, he saw Quinn, Daria and John at a booth. He went over and sat down next to Quinn. "Got here as soon as I could. Do you think this is far enough away from the blast zone?"

"Oh, Mom's probably calmed down by now," Quinn said. "But"

"It's safer here," Daria said.

John said, "Not to mention that there's pizza."

Jake entered and, after looking around, saw them. "Hey, kids!"

Daria said, "Hi, Dad. What brings you here?"

Jake pulled a chair over from an empty table. "You don't think I was staying home alone with Helen and Erin, do you?"

"Now that you mention it" Daria said.

"We could hang out together," Jake said, excited. "How about a movie? My treat."

"I could see a movie," John said.

"Your nickel," Daria said.

Quinn said, "Tom?"

He shrugged. "What could be the harm?"

* * *

As the hero and heroine of the cheesy science fiction movie kissed while the end credits rolled, Quinn leaned over and whispered to Tom, "'What could be the harm?'"

Tom whispered back, "Okay, we killed some brain cells. But, only the weak ones."

John said, "It was no _Plan Nine From Outer Space_, but it had its moments."

"I don't know," Daria said. "But I think the ghost of Bela Lugosi would've helped it."

"What movie wouldn't be improved?" John said.

Grinning, Jake said, "Wasn't that movie great?"

Daria said, "I can't wait for the sequel."

* * *

After everyone had parked, the Morgendorffer driveway was filled with cars and everyone had gathered at the front door, hesitating to enter. John set his hand on the door knob and said, "Why do I have to go in first?"

"Because you can run the fastest," Quinn said.

"Oh, yeah," John said. "Remind me to become more of a couch potato before your mother does any more at-home legal work."

"Don't worry, John. We're right behind you," Jake said.

"Unless I come running out at full speed," John said.

"Oh, um, well, yes," Jake said.

Tom said, "And in that case, we scatter. At least some of us will survive."

"Hmm, he's got functional brain cells, Quinn. I approve," Daria said.

"Here goes," John said and opened the door. Inside was quiet, so he cautiously stepped inside and listened further.

He could hear Helen say, "Okay, with what you've given me, I'm sure that we can get him to agree to a modest settlement."

"Oh, thank you, Aunt Helen," Erin said.

John turned and gave a thumb's up sign. "Clear."

Jake allowed the teens to enter first and he followed, looking over his shoulder while closing the door. "Nothing ever goes this easy with Helen's family."

* * *

Tom watched while Jake and John finished making dinner. At the table, Quinn sat with Erin as she spoke on the telephone. Erin said, "Grandma, Aunt Helen was great. Really, I think we have this worked out the best way possible."

In the living room, Helen and Daria watched television. Daria said, "No grumbling about how much money you saved Aunt Rita?"

"I probably should say something," Helen replied. "But without her here, it just wouldn't be the same."

"I'm not certain if that was a positive or a negative comment."

Helen gave her daughter a sad look. "Both."

"Oh."

"I feel used, but I'm happy that I was able to help Erin," Helen said. "As hard as it may be to believe, helping others was a big part of why I became a lawyer. It feels good when I really get the chance."

There was a loud knock at the door. Daria looked at it and said, "Sounds like someone is too clueless to see the doorbell."

"Probably a delivery man," Helen said. "Can you get it, sweetie?"

"My leg's not broken, so I guess I can."

There was another loud knock before Daria reached the door. "Hold on," she said, opening it. "Uh, oh."

Brian stood in the doorway. "Where's Erin?" he said.

Daria could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Um, I don't think she wants to see you."

"I didn't ask if she wanted to see me," Brian said and pushed his way past Daria. "I asked if she was here."

Helen rose and quickly got in front of him. "You are not welcome and you will leave my house this instant!"

"Or what?" Brian said.

"I will have you arrested."

"Yeah, right. You sound just like old Granny Barky."

Helen took her cell phone from her pocket. "Don't push me."

Brian did exactly that and started toward the kitchen as Helen fell to the ground. He glanced back and said, "Don't boss me around."

When he turned back, he found Jake and John right in front of him. Jake's fists were clenched at his side as his anger wrestled with memories of humiliations when he tried to fight at Buxton Ridge Military Academy.

John said, "Brian, it's time to leave."

"Screw you," Brian said. "Erin! Are you back there, you bitch!"

John's eyes switched from Helen, dialing the phone where she sat, to Jake, whose anger was winning over fear. The change in Jake's countenance from wild-eyed to grimly determined caused John to shout, "Brian, it's really time to leave."

"Or what?" Brian said, this time pushing John.

Even if someone was never particularly good at a skill, they never fully lose it. Though he had been pummeled in every boxing match he had to endure in military school, not to mention the after-hours beatings or what his father had done on the rare visits home, Jake knew how to put power into his punch as his fist hit Brian's jaw in a rising, right cross.

The unexpected blow knocked Brian to the side and he staggered. "You bastard!"

_Crap! Jake does not need to get into a fistfight._ John thought and then dove straight at Brian. That surprised him as much as the punch and he fell to the floor with John's weight falling onto his chest, knocking his breath away.

"We have an intruder and he just assaulted my husband and son!" Helen yelled into the phone. "We need a car here now!"

John drew his fist back and Brian smiled at him, saying, "Go for it, brat. I'm going to sue you and your parents' asses off."

"Thank you," Helen said, into the phone. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Brian. "Try me," she growled. "You assaulted me and my daughter. My husband is in his home and could reasonably assume you meant further harm. The same for my son. Go ahead and try. Punk."

John had the brief image of Helen holding a .44 Magnum.

Brian looked at her, then John and then Jake, who stood above him, glaring a lifetime's worth of anger. Gulping, he said, "Maybe we could talk this over."

Erin stood behind Jake and said, "No. No more talk. It's over, Brian."

Back to the phone, Helen said, "Sorry, distracted for a moment. We have the intruder subdued. Yes, we still need an officer. Thank you."

From the kitchen, Quinn said, "Dad? That waswow."

* * *

A short time later, a police officer led Brian out of the house in handcuffs. His partner closed a notebook and said, "We'll take care of everything, Mr. and Mrs. Morgendorffer."

"Make sure you do everything strictly by the book," Helen said. "I don't want to give him the slightest out."

"By the book, ma'am. If you think of anything else, please let us know."

"I will," Helen said.

"Good night," the officer said before he departed.

Helen turned to Jake and said, "What do you think you were doing?"

"I, uh," Jake stammered. "I didn't think, Helen. He justI couldn'tand it just"

Helen immediately softened and put her hand to his cheek. "Oh, Jakey."

Daria said to John, "Are you planning on trying out for the football team?"

"Only thing I could think of since I can't punch worth a damn," he said.

Daria gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

Watching from the kitchen, Tom said, "Quinn. You can rest assured that I will always be on my best behavior."

Erin, still feeling overwhelmed, said, "Aunt Helen, Uncle Jake, I'm so sorry."

Helen was focused on Jake and didn't notice.

Daria and Quinn grabbed their boyfriends' hands and pulled them toward the door. As they passed on either side of Erin, the sisters grabbed her hands to bring her along. Daria said, "We saw a great movie this afternoon. I really think we need to see it again."

Quinn said, "Yeah, again. Before Mom and Dad get too distracted."

Erin said, "What about dinner?"

"We'll grab some pizza," John said. "Now, let's go."

* * *

Erin was glad that the booths at the pizza place were the wider versions that seated six instead of the usual four. She was seated next to Daria, with John against the wall while across the table were Quinn and Tom. They had finished their pizza and were still working on sodas when she said, "I'm sorry, everybody. I didn't think that Brian would follow me."

Daria said, "I really don't think you planned for him to show up, get into a fight with Dad and John and get arrested."

John teased, "That's what she wants you to think. I'm sure it was all part of her grand design."

Tom nodded and said, "I believe you."

"I wish we had this kind of humor around home," Erin said. "Mom and Grandma are just so serious about everything."

"It's the only way to survive," Daria said.

"That kind of sounds like the way Mom describes Aunt Amy."

Daria pointed at each of the young women at the table and said, "We all share certain genetic traits."

Erin laughed. "That, we do. But I can see the difference between you and Quinn, Daria. You get along a lot better than our moms."

Quinn said, "Blame that on John. I think he diluted all the estrogen from me, Daria and Mom."

"Oooh, estrogen dilution. My life's complete," John said.

"Either that, or Daria just mellowed out after finally getting kissed."

Daria said, "I should thank Tom for doing the same to you."

Tom said to John, "Are you also starting to feel used?"

"Like that's a problem?" John replied.

"Hmm, maybe not."

Erin leaned across the table and touched both boys' hands. "You two are so much better than Brian ever was. I don't think I need to worry about my cousins."

"We've been complimented," Tom said.

John said, "We're in trouble now."

* * *

"You know I normally don't condone violence," Helen cooed with her head resting on Jake's chest as both snuggled under the sheets on their bed. "But this time you did the right thing, you big lug."

"Anything for you, honey." With a calm smile, Jake said, "I did. I did the right thing. And you know what? They're gone, Helen. They're gone."

"Who's gone?"

"The ghosts. My dad Corporal Ellenbogen the cadets. I'm not afraid of them. They can't beat me up anymore. I can stand up and fight!"

"Jake, I hope you're not planning on making a habit of punching people."

"No, Helen. No. But if I really need to, I know I can. I can."

"Thank you, honey."

"My pleasure."

Helen smiled and said, "I can make sure it's your pleasure."

"Oh, yeah!"

* * *

Holding her empty soda cup, Quinn asked, "Do you think it's safe to go home, now?"

Daria checked her watch and said, "Better give them another hour, to be on the safe side."

"Yeah, give them some time," Erin said. "Your parents are kind of cute like that. Not like Mom and her string of boyfriends."

Quinn said, "I don't want to hear about Aunt Rita and her boyfriends."

"Don't worry, I wouldn't do that to my worst enemy," Erin said. Actually, they weren't that bad. They, well, didn't have that cute spark your parents have."

"Cute," Daria said. "Or embarrassing. Depends on your point of view."

Erin said, "Oh, really? I can tell that you and John have taken lessons from them."

Quinn giggled. "She's got you there, Daria."

Daria raised one eyebrow at her sister. "Mirror, Quinn. Mirror."

Erin said, "You're going to be okay. I'm glad that somebody's going to get out of this family without being messed up in some way."

John said, "If we're not considered messed up, I don't want to know what is."

"Trust me," Daria replied. "We are well over toward the sane side of the Barksdale Scale."

Erin said, "So, John, you consider yourself part of the family"

Quinn said, "He is. Yeah, he is."

John thought of the garter still on his dresser and smiled.

* * *

The next morning, Erin held the leather briefcase filled with the divorce papers close to her chest while she stood by the front door. "Thank you so much, Aunt Helen. And I'm so sorry about Brian. I really had no idea that he would try to follow me."

"You are so welcome, Erin, and it's not your fault that Brianwell, don't worry about him. He'll be taken care of."

"In more ways than one," Daria said.

Erin waved to the teenagers. "Daria, Quinn, John. Thank you, too. I wish I'd have spent more time with you years ago."

"Trust me, it wouldn't have been the same," Quinn said. "But we're better now. And give us a call anytime."

"I will. I see a lot more bad movies and pizza in my future. Goodbye, everyone!"

"Goodbye," the Morgendorffers all said, somewhat out of synch.

After she closed the door, Helen said to her family, "Well, that was an adventure."

"And we didn't even have to set foot outside our door. Well, except for pizza," John said.

Serious, Helen said, "I know all of this could be disturbing to you kids."

Quinn said, "Mom, there were some things that I really don't want to ever think about, but I think we'll be okay."

Daria said, "Mom, I think we saw the best and the worst this weekend." She reached over and grabbed John's hand. "I think we ended up with the best."

Helen smiled and took Jake's hand. "You're right, sweetie."

* * *

Some dialog from: _Aunt Nauseam_ by Jacquelyn Reingold

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.

July - August 2010


	48. A Boston We Will Go

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the forty-eighth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**A Boston We Will Go**

Happy with the e-mail reply, John swiveled his chair to face Daria, who had been reading over his shoulder. "You at Raft on Tuesday and BFAC for me on Wednesday should give us plenty of time to check out both campuses and still see the sights around Boston."

"Providing we can get there," Daria said. "Mom's eyeball deep, as usual, in a case and Dad has some clients with real money for a change. Yeah, they let us go to D.C. together, but that wasn't planned to be overnight and this will need to be at least two nights."

"It's planning for college. Your mother is not going to say no. She's stubborn that way."

"There is that. Maybe if we can get someone like Aunt Amy to chaperone, Mom will go along without much fuss."

"Better than her asking Grandma Ruth to chaperone."

"Don't even joke about that, John."

* * *

Hearing Daria's voice on the phone, Amy Barksdale leaned back on her sofa and said, "My favorite niece. I hope this is a social call and not to inform me that Helen has blown a head gasket and needs to be sent back to the factory for repairs."

"Actually, John and I kind of need a favor."

"Sure, I can be a witness. Fifty bucks if I meet you at the Justice of the Peace and a hundred if you drag me to a chapel."

"Amy!"

Amy laughed and said, "Okay, okay. You're not getting hitched, so I guess you need bail money. How much?"

"We don't need bail money, either. We want to make a trip to Boston during spring break for interviews at a couple of colleges and need a chaperone."

"Now how in the hell can I vicariously live an exciting life through you if you're going to be all responsible and stuff?"

"Amy, we live in Lawndale. The polar opposite of exciting."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry about that, kids. When is your spring break?"

"Week after next."

"Matches up with mine. I'll do it. Providing you're not expecting me to pay for everything."

"I'm sure we can get Mom to pitch in something."

"You've got a deal. E-mail the details and I'll find a hotel."

"Thanks, Amy."

"Sure, Daria. The chance to spend a couple uninterrupted days as a bad influence, how could I pass that up?"

* * *

With her parents seated at the dining table, Daria set a calendar down in front of them and said, "We leave Lawndale on Monday, spend Tuesday at Raft and Wednesday at BFAC. On Thursday, we head back to Lawndale."

Helen said, "Very nice planning, but I'm sorry, your father and I are too busy to get away for four days."

"We thought of that," John said from where he was seated across the table. "Daria's Aunt Amy has agreed to go along as a chaperone."

"Who better to guide us around colleges than a college professor?" Daria said.

"You appear to have thought of everything," Helen said. "I'm impressed."

Sounding disappointed, Jake said, "You're not going to stop by Middleton?"

"Not this time, Dad," Daria said.

"Well, when you want to go, just let me know," Jake said. "I'd love to show you around the old _alma mater._"

"We'll work around your important clients," John said.

"Yeah, thanks, John."

"Do we have a deal?" Daria asked.

Helen said, "Jake, I think we should let them go."

"Sure, but I don't think that they should drive their car. I mean, it's a long way to Boston."

"Well, Amy canoh, dear. Her car is rather small. Daria, we'll rent a car for you to use. Something a bit more reliable than yours."

"No complaints from this end," John said. "Hmm"

Pointedly, Helen said, "I'll pick the rental car."

"Dammit."

* * *

Quinn heard about the trip at dinner and her response was, "Daria! You can't leave me alone with Mom and Dad for half a week!"

"I'm sure Tom won't mind if you hang out with him while we're gone," John said.

"But Tom and his mother are going to Newtown to visit Bromwell at the same time!"

"There's always the Fashion Club and the column. It never hurts to get a week ahead on things like that."

"But that means the news will be a week old. You just can't do that in cutting-edge fashion, Daria."

"My mistake, sorry."

John said, "Look at it as practice for when Daria and I are gone for months on end next year."

"Eep!"

* * *

Amy hugged her sister as soon as she opened the door. "Helen, it's so good to see you."

Returning the hug, Helen said, "Amy, thank you so much for agreeing to all this."

From the living room, Jake waved and said, "Hi, Amy."

Amy stepped inside and said, "Jake, you still haven't turned Helen in for a newer model. That's what I call dedication. Or brain damage."

Helen gave her a curt laugh. "We're doing very well. John and Daria should be down shortly. Their luggage is already in the rental car."

"Yeah, I saw the bourg-mobile outside. I also saw that big old Plymouth. Keeping up the family tradition?"

"They bought it from John's brother."

"Yeah, we were given cars."

"If you call a Dart a car."

Amy countered, "Hey, I had a Vega."

"Let's call it even," Helen said.

"Deal." Looking up, Amy said, "Hi, Daria, John. Ready for your big adventure?"

John said, "As long as it doesn't include Pee Wee Herman."

"Good one," Amy said.

"Thanks, Amy," Daria said.

"Well, let's get going. It's a six-hour drive even if we don't include potty breaks."

Going past Amy, Daria said, "Not to mention stopping at least once for food. That bottomless pit will never make it six hours without regular feedings."

John said, "Bye, everyone. I promise not to get arrested."

Daria said, "Bye, Mom, Dad. Stay out of trouble, Quinn."

"Don't I always?" Quinn said.

"You do have a way of avoiding it."

Helen and Jake stopped Daria and hugged her. "Bye, sweetie," and "Bye, kiddo," they said.

Amy said, "I'll keep them out of jail and out of the seedier space ranger bars. And I promise to bring them back in one piece. More or less."

* * *

Amy stretched out in the back seat of the rental car while Daria drove and John rode shotgun. "I could get used to having a chauffeur."

"Now I know my purpose in life," Daria said as she watched the interstate highway traffic. "I can skip college and pimp out my driver's license."

"That's the spirit," Amy said. "You, a limo and some cool artwork from John."

"Yeah, plain black limos are so boring," John said. "Some flames, maybe a few pinstripes"

"Just don't go for the whole body murals. I survived the Seventies and the era of custom vans. No vehicle deserves shag carpeting."

"You know, there was shag carpeting in the Tank when Max bought it," John said.

"Was?" Daria said.

"Max said that it smelled funky, so he pulled it out."

Amy said, "Smart man. Seventies funk is a smell best left in that decade."

John said, "Voice of experience?"

"Nose of experience," Amy said.

John winced. "Ow. Bad pun. Bad pun."

Amy smiled. "So you two are still together. To be honest, you're doing better than I've ever done."

"Um, thanks?" Daria said.

"It was a compliment."

John said, "We'll take it, then."

Amy sat upright and said, "I do have one question for you. You're both eighteen, so do we need to go through the charade of separate rooms for you?"

Daria glanced at John. "We've shared a hotel room before."

"Good. That'll make life easier all the way around."

"You're a pretty easy chaperone," John said.

"Realistic. My job is to make sure you stay out of jail. Otherwise, you're adults who are responsible for your personal actions. Just don't wake me up with them."

"Okay," John said. "I think we can do that."

Amy smiled. "Besides, compared to your mother, you two are almost saints."

Daria said, "Oh?"

"I could tell you stories about your mother, but you'd be scarred for life and I'd lose valuable bargaining chips against Helen."

"Now the last part I believe," John said.

With a smile, Amy said, "Trust me, being the youngest means that I have bargaining chips or have favors owed from the entire family. They can be useful."

* * *

With her parents sharing one of the sofas, Quinn approached them from the kitchen and said, "Mom, Dad. Since Daria and John are going to Boston to look at colleges, can I go look at colleges next year on my spring break?"

Helen said, "I don't see why not."

"Yeah, it's only fair," Jake said.

"Even if, umI want to look at a college in California?"

"California?" Helen said. "That's a long distance away."

"I know, butmy friends and I are still looking at Pepperhill. I know, I know. They have a party reputation, but it is a real college with real academics."

"Benny Hill? I thought he had that TV show," Jake said.

Patient, Quinn said, "Pepperhill."

"Is that his brother?"

"It's a college. In San Diego. California."

"Oh. Oh, yeah. I knew that."

Helen gave Jake a fast glance before returning to Quinn. "I'd feel more comfortable if you flew out there instead of drove."

"I can handle flying First Class."

* * *

Carrying a suitcase in one hand and a laptop case slung over her shoulder, Amy stopped at the door to Daria and John's room. "Good night, kids. I'm going to use the room network connection to check e-mail and stuff for work. Otherwise, I'll see you at eight tomorrow morning downstairs in the restaurant."

"Good night, Amy," Daria said as she opened the room door.

"Work e-mail?" John said, holding two suitcases. "I thought you were on vacation."

"In some ways, you never escape being a professor," Amy said. "I'm expecting some manuscript revisions from a collaborator in London and want to see if they came in."

Daria said, "If it has, something tells me you're not going to get much sleep tonight."

"Pretty much. But, that's the life I chose. It mostly doesn't suck." Amy nodded and went to her room. "And don't forget that I'm in the next room."

John walked into the room and Daria closed the door behind him. With a minimum of fumbling, he placed the suitcases on the stands and opened them. "Home, sweet home for the next couple days."

Daria collected her toiletries from her suitcase. "Two days of reasonable privacy."

Smiling, John kissed her shoulder as she passed. "That is a good thing."

Daria stopped at the bathroom door and looked back. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

"Okay." John sat on the bed and reached for the TV remote before the hint in her voice registered. "Oh, okay!"

* * *

Looking at Daria and John seated on the other side of the restaurant table, Amy said, "It looks like you had a good night."

Daria nodded. "What makes you say that?"

"Your glow is lighting up the place."

"We're not that bad," John said. "Are we?"

"You are, but that's okay. After all, you are living under my sister's roof and I assume maintain some level of respectability."

"A certain level of decorum is expected," Daria said.

John said, "At least as much as Jake and Helen show."

Amy closed her eyes, took a deep swig of coffee and said, "There is a reason I can't look at aerosol whipped cream without never mind."

"More soul-searing history of my parents?" Daria said.

It was Amy's turn to nod. "That taught me to not ditch a lousy date and come home early when Helen was around. Anyway, since I didn't get any last night, why don't we change the subject to the plan for the day?"

"My appointment at Raft is for eleven. I figure that we can tour the campus before then, find out what's close by for lunch and then maybe see some sights around Boston."

"Damn kids and your plans, making my generation look like a bunch of slackers," Amy said.

"I don't think anyone's ever accused a Lane of making a plan," John said.

* * *

Carrying an over-the-shoulder bag and hurrying past her parents eating breakfast, Quinn grabbed an energy bar and said, "The Fashion Club is having a conference on summer apparel that we expect to last all week. I should be home on Thursday."

Helen said, "That's nice, dear. Where are you going to be?"

"Stacy's house."

Jake said, "Have fun!"

"It's good to see you and the other girls planning ahead," Helen said.

"Yeah, Mom," Quinn said. "You can never do too much planning for summer."

"Call us if you need anything," Helen said.

"I will. Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad."

"Bye," both Helen and Jake said.

As Quinn walked out of the house, she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead and said, "Don't look back. Don't look back."

Sandi was waiting in the driveway. "Hi, Quinn. I'm so glad you came to me with the idea for a summer planning conference."

"My pleasure, Sandi," Quinn said. "And thank you for agreeing on such short notice. Are you ready to go?"

"You seem to be in a hurry."

"My Mom and Dad are going to be home alone and they tend to getfrisky."

"Eww," Sandi said, quickly starting the car. "That is too much information."

"Please, just go."

Sandi barked the tires as she backed away. "I'm going, Quinn. I'm going."

* * *

Being spring break, parking was pleasantly easy to find on the Raft campus, in stark contrast to the rest of Boston. As they got out of the car, Daria said, "Selling the car and learning how to use the local transportation might be a smart choice."

"Where's your sense of adventure, Daria?" John said.

"Safely tucked away for something interesting and driving around Boston traffic doesn't qualify."

Amy said, "So just imagine what it would be like around here when classes are in session."

John said, "You know, cash from the car could give us a deposit on an apartment."

"Even though Raft and BFAC require freshman to live on campus?" Daria said.

"Save it for sophomore year."

Amy smirked, lifted one eyebrow and said, "That sounds like planning to me."

"Dammit!"

* * *

Not far from Downtown Boston, the Raft campus was arranged around a large, open quadrangle, which in better weather would be covered in grass. To the north were the original men's resident halls and to the south, the women's. Reading a map, Daria pointed to a building along the eastern side and said, "Founders Hall. That's the main admin building and where we need to go."

Amy said, "I see the bookstore is over there, too. Cuts down on how far they have to carry the kickbacks."

"And cafeteria just on the other side," John said. "I guess that means the food can't smell too bad if it's that close to the president's office."

"Don't bet on it," Amy said. "The president probably installed HEPA filters to the air handlers for his office."

As they walked around the perimeter, Daria used the map to identify other parts of the campus. She pointed to the west and said, "Warner Hall. That's the humanities building, so I guess I'm going to be spending a lot of time there. John, that's Lavell Hall, the fine arts building."

"So the place has a little good taste and class," he replied.

Daria said, "I don't think I'll need to worry too much about the fraternity and sorority houses, but they're on the other side of the matching dorms, following a nice, early twentieth-century sensibility of not allowing boys and girls to live too close together."

"And it gives more opportunities for streaking across the quad," Amy said. When John and Daria looked at her, she said, "Hey, I started college in the seventies. We did things like that. And before you give me any more looks, your generation will find something just as stupid to do."

"Or more stupid," John said, "if most of our current classmates are any indication."

"Things improve in college," Amy said. "Trust me on that."

* * *

The receptionist checked her computer and said, "I have you right here." She then picked up her telephone and dialed. "Ms. Morgendorffer is here. I'll send her in."

After the receptionist nodded to the door, Daria said, "Thank you."

"Good luck," John said, giving her a quick hug.

"See you in about half an hour," Daria said, accepting the embrace. "Try to not draw on the walls."

"I brought a sketch pad," John said in faux offense.

"Okay, you're off the hook."

After Daria went in and closed the door, John sat down in the waiting area and Amy took the chair next to him.

He glanced at her and said, "So the interrogation begins?"

"I can't think of anything that Helen wouldn't have asked you already and if all of your body parts are still attached, I can safely assume that you passed."

He gulped. "Um, thanks."

"I also heard about your run-in with my mother." Amy smiled. "She's not used to that many people standing up to her."

"Yeah, but everybody else standing up for me made me feel wanted," John said. "Though it sank any hopes of her helping out with our college expenses."

"I'm not surprised. Mom never shied away from using her money as a weapon."

"But it looks like we've pulled enough help together to get us through. Barely."

"That's good to hear," Amy said.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Do you have any advice for us?" John said.

Amy closed her eyes for a moment before answering. "Remember what's really important."

* * *

The Admissions Director was a trim man in his late thirties, clean-shaven with light brown hair. He stood and motioned to one of the chairs facing his desk. "Please, have a seat."

Daria took the chair and said, "Good morning."

The director opened his file and skimmed the contents. "You have a respectable packet. Good grades, extracurricular activities and a refreshingly well-written cover letter."

"I hope to be a writer," Daria said.

"We have several degree programs that could fit that desire," he said. "What made you choose Raft College?"

Daria paused for a moment before answering. "Raft has well-respected English and Education programs. It's small enough to allow students to know their instructors without being so small as to feel like an overgrown high school."

The director smiled. "A happy balance. What about our location in Boston?"

"I'm looking forward to all the" Daria stopped and shifted forward. "I'm not good at giving pat answers. Boston has a lot more of interest to me than the boring suburb where I live now or the desolate backwater I lived in before that."

"I can appreciate honesty. I don't hear it that often in this line of work. Please, continue."

Daria relaxed. "I can do honest."

* * *

Seated on the floor of Stacy's room along with the rest of the Fashion Club, Quinn said, "I talked my Mom and Dad into allowing me to visit Pepperhill next spring break. Why don't we all go together to look at the campus?"

Sandi sighed and said, "Quinn, Pepperhill is so last year."

Quinn gave Sandi a tired look. "So what college is 'in' this year?"

With an equally tired look, Sandi said, "I guess you have fallen behind a bit, what with having a regular boyfriend and all. The college to attend now is Vizcaya."

"In Miami?" Quinn said.

"I see you haven't forgotten your geography."

Excited, Stacy said, "I'm sorry, Quinn. You were on a date with Tom when we talked about colleges. The weather around Vizcaya is wonderful year-round and think of all the cute guys that will be on the beaches."

"Cute guys," Tiffany said.

Feeling left out, Quinn said, "In that case, can you please bring me up to date on this?"

"That's what friends are for," Sandi said.

* * *

Amy lifted her glass and said, "One down, one to go."

Daria and John joined her in the friendly toast as they ate dinner. He said, "I hope my interview goes as good as Daria's."

"Don't bet on an interviewer that appreciates sarcasm," Daria warned. "I lucked out."

"I hope I don't get someone who thinks the art world begins and ends with Elvis on black velvet."

"Because it really should be white velvet," Amy said.

He looked at her. "I'm glad I know you're joking."

"Am I?"

"You suggested going to the Institute of Contemporary Art tomorrow afternoon. You appreciate good art."

"Damn you kids."

Daria said, "History, bookstores, culture. Today's been great and I think I could live here."

"I see a lot of public transit in our future," John said. "The local drivers make your dad look sane and I don't know about Raft, but BFAC doesn't allow freshmen to have cars on campus."

"Same with Raft," Daria said. "We'll definitely have to part with the old blue bomber."

"This summer, I'll see if Trent wants it back. The circle of life and that kind of stuff."

Amy said, "I don't think that's what people mean by the circle of life."

"It'll make sense to Trent."

"Someday, I have to meet this brother of yours."

Curious, John said, "Oh?"

"I think he'd make a fascinating research subject."

* * *

An orange streak followed by a gray streak bounced onto and off the bed, waking Jake and Helen. Jake sat upright with a "What! What's that?"

Helen groaned, "It's only the cats, honey."

"Cats? Oh, oh yeah. The cats."

Zachary and Taylor jumped back up onto the bed and stopped when they noticed that the humans were awake. In well-timed divide and conquer, Zachary went to Helen and Taylor to Jake, purring and nuzzling the humans.

Helen said, "I think they miss the kids."

Petting the cat, Jake said, "It's been awfully quiet."

"It has." Helen took a moment to think that it wouldn't be long before all of the children were away to college. "I think we need to get used to it."

Jake caught her idea. "Where did the time go?"

"I don't know."

When Taylor rubbed against Jake again and meowed, he said, "Do you think that they know?"

Helen picked up Zachary and held him. "I think that they're trying to prepare us."

* * *

Lying in her sleeping bag while the rest of the Fashion Club slept in Stacy's room, Quinn watched the glowing clock and thought about the evening's conversation.

"Screw it," she said. "I'm going to the college I want to go to. I don't care what _Waif_ says is hot."

A quiet whisper replied, "But what if I don't want to go to college?"

Quinn rolled to face Stacy. "Do you have something else in mind?" she whispered.

"Yeah, something else."

"Then let's go for what we want."

"Deal. But what about Sandi?"

"She really doesn't need to know, does she?"

"No."

"Then don't worry about it."

* * *

Entering the hotel restaurant, Amy saw John and Daria seated next to each other at a booth, sipping coffee and juice. "At least she's not as loud as my sisters and I've been able to sleep," Amy joked to herself. She reached them and said, "Good morning."

"Morning, Amy," Daria said. "Another late night with your manuscript?"

Amy sat and tastefully motioned for the waitress. Timing her reply carefully, she said, "Nah, I blew it off to surf for internet porn."

John's spit-take was exactly the response she was expecting.

"What?" Amy innocently said.

While Daria chuckled, John wiped his mouth and said, "You caught me by surprise."

"You need to expect the unexpected," Amy said, smiling.

"I'm slowly learning that," he said.

"It's a good skill to learn."

"I suppose it'll help me to prepare for my interview."

Amy winked at Daria and said in a faux-country accent, "He learns up real good. I think you should keep him."

"Im thinking about it," Daria said.

The waitress arrived and said, "Good morning, ma'am. Would you care for something to drink?"

"Coffee and orange juice," Amy said.

"I'll be right back," the waitress said, departing.

John said, "So, Amy. What kind of porn?"

She smirked. "Yep. Keeper."

* * *

Boston Fine Arts College was not far from Raft. John estimated it would be a fairly easy jog, less than three miles. Unlike the older, open quad of Raft, BFAC was a tight cluster of taller buildings confined to two city blocks with only a small courtyard for open space. "I can see parking sucks even more here than at Raft," he said as Amy squeezed the car into the parking garage.

"I've seen worse," Amy said.

"Show off," Daria said.

"Occupational hazard; I'm an academic. You tend to see a lot of different campuses."

John said, "You haven't really given us much of your opinion of our schools, Amy."

"I'm here to keep you out of jail, not influence your decisions."

"You're allowed to give us your opinion," Daria said. "I promise not to tell Mom."

"I've heard a lot of good things about Raft. Granted, I mostly know about the Sociology department, but it has a good rep. Even the University Press is known for quality work. John, I'm not much of an artist and honestly don't know much about BFAC beyond what I've read in the _Journal of Higher Education_, which paints it"

"Bad pun," John said.

"I have to let them out," Amy said. "If I hold them in, I get gas."

Daria said, "That was too much information. Now, go on."

"It has a reputation for innovation. Hell, they even hold an ice sculpture contest every year that they call the Ice Tea Party."

"That sounds like it could be fun."

Amy found a parking spot at last and pulled in. "I thought you would like it."

* * *

The interviewer was a man in his early fifties with long, graying brown hair pulled into a ponytail. "So, Mr. Lane. What draws you to Boston Fine Arts College? Besides the obvious that we specialize in art education."

"My girlfriend is hoping to go to Raft."

"I see. Logical. Any reason you didn't look into Raft's art department?"

John shrugged. "It's a department and BFAC is an entire school. You have more faculty offering classes in more areas than would be available at Raft."

"I reviewed your portfolio before you arrived. You show a lot of promise. Your academic records are reasonable, though I notice a strong improvement in your sophomore year."

"That's when I met my girlfriend."

The interviewer smiled. "That usually accompanies a decline in grades. Unusual, but a good sign."

"Thank you."

"Now it's your turn to ask any questions you have about BFAC."

"Tell me about this Ice Tea Party."

* * *

Nestled under John's arm the next morning, Daria said, "Damn, we have to sleep in our own beds tonight."

"Don't remind me," he said.

"I guess that's the price we have to pay for some level of happiness."

"I wish there was a way around the 'freshman on campus' rules."

"You know what they say about wishing in one hand," Daria said.

"Make sure you wash the other hand when you're done." John snuggled Daria closer and said, "I hope Amy doesn't mind us staying in a bit longer."

"She'll have to deal."

* * *

Waiting at a table, Amy said, "You're too wide awake for me to make sleeping-in jokes about you."

John said, "Hope you didn't mind the wait."

"I got to flirt with a cute waiter, so I'm good," Amy said. "Are you ready for the return to Mundania?"

"If we must," Daria said.

"It's only for a few more months," Amy said, reassuring.

"Assuming we get in," Daria said.

Amy chuckled. "It's not like you're trying to get into someplace like Bromwell, that has ten times the number of qualified applicants as slots. Unless you royally pissed off the interviewer, you've got the grades and background to get into Raft, Daria. Hell, the interview was more for them to sell Raft to you, not to weed you out. Relax."

Daria nodded. "Thanks, Amy."

"But I don't have Daria's grades," John said.

"BFAC wanted to interview you, right?" Amy said.

"Yes."

"Then they want you. Look, the hundred or so schools that receive far more applicants than they have openings use their interviews to eliminate applicants. For all the rest of us mere mortal schools, the interviews are a sales pitch to get the student to attend. I'd bet you good money that each of you gets in."

"I've learned not to bet against any of you people," John said.

"You'll do well in this world, young man."

* * *

After Sandi drove away, Quinn paused at the front door of her house and listened. "No strange noises inside good. It might be safe to enter."

She pushed the door open and stepped inside while keeping her eyes closed. "Mom! Dad! I'm home!"

"Welcome home, Quinn," Helen said from where she was seated on the sofa. "How was your stay with your friends?"

Hearing her mother's voice like that, Quinn knew it was safe to open her eyes. "Great, Mom. We have our summer wear all planned out."

"That's thinking ahead," Helen said, though there was a faint disappointment in her voice.

"And," Quinn said, "we made some good decisions about college and stuff."

Happier, Helen said, "That's wonderful. Are you still thinking about Pepperhill?"

"Positive. I want to go there."

"If you know what you want, then you can start planning. It's never too early to get ready to impress the admissions office."

Quinn nodded. After looking around, she said. "Where's Dad?"

"He's upstairs, uh, cleaning. You may want to wait a little while before you go upstairs."

"Right." Quinn placed her luggage on the floor and walked to the kitchen. "I'll call Tom and see if he's home yet."

"Very thoughtful of you."

In the kitchen, Quinn dialed the cordless phone and sat down at the dining table. After a couple rings, she heard, "Hello."

"Hi, Elsie. Is Tom home, yet?"

"Yeah, they got back a couple of hours ago," Elsie said before calling out, "Tom! Phone!"

Quinn giggled at how much she knew that would annoy Mrs. Sloane.

After a short wait, Tom said, "Hello."

"Hi, it's me, calling to see how your trip went."

"I survived my mother's reminiscing about her college days with Dad and managed to avoid doing anything like throwing up on the interviewer's shoes. Therefore, I'm probably a shoo-in unless the price of admission has gone up from paying for a wing of a building. The only down side was an endless breakfast with one of the faculty, who happened to be an old classmate of my parents. How about you?"

"I spent most of the time with the Fashion Club. We're all set for our summer shopping."

"How exciting. Anything else?"

"I'm pretty sure I want to go to Pepperhill next year."

"That is all the way across the country from Bromwell."

"Yeah, I know," Quinn said, a little worried.

"I guess we'll have to see if we can make a long-distance relationship work."

"I guess we'll have to."

* * *

Helen hugged Amy and said, "Thank you again for watching over Daria and John."

"Hey, they were reasonably well-behaved and, besides, I needed to get away from my university for a few days," Amy said.

"Reasonably well-behaved? What a horrible thing to say about teenagers," Helen said, glancing back at Daria and John.

John shrugged. "What can I say? We're beyond redemption."

Helen said, "Amy, we really should see each other more often."

"You know, now that we've had a few years to mellow out, I think you're right. Maybe even include Rita."

"In for a penny," Helen said, wary.

"I'll call Mother when I get home. Rita's usually there."

"Good luck."

"Thanks, I'll probably need it. Anyway, I need to get back on the road to make it back home at something like a reasonable hour. Good-bye, everybody."

The rest of the Morgendorffer family gave their farewells and Amy left with a final wave.

Helen turned to John and Daria. "I'm glad that you enjoyed your visits."

"We're excited," John said. "We both feel good about Boston."

Silent to this point, Jake said, "But what did you think about Middleton?"

"Um, Dad," Daria said. "We didn't stop by Middleton."

Jake smirked and said, "Good move, kiddo."

"I don't know what happened this weekend, but your dad just made a joke, Daria," John said.

Jake laughed and slapped John's back. "That's right!"

To Helen, Daria said, "Mom, please, never tell me what happened while we were gone."

* * *

Completing the trip home, Amy parked her car in her driveway and said, "Home at last, home at last. Thank God almighty, I'm home at last."

Climbing out and grabbing her suitcase, she walked to her apartment. Thinking about the call she promised to make, she thought for a moment and then said, "Hmm, Mother still owes me a huge favor and this might be a good time to aim for two birds with that stone. Or perhaps four."

* * *

Seated on her bed with Quinn, Daria said, "College isn't for everybody and if someone really doesn't want to go, they probably won't graduate and they'll have wasted their time and their parents' money."

Quinn nodded. "I was thinking the same thing."

Daria lifted an eyebrow. "You're not thinking about not going to college, are you?"

"No, Daria. I'm going to Pepperhill."

"You sound pretty certain about that."

"Positive. Daria, could you help me get started on my application?"

"You're getting an early start."

"I know. Will you?"

"If you're this set on a college, how can I say no to you?"

Looking shocked, Helen slowly opened the door and said, "Girls, I just got off the phone with Mother."

"Oh, my God," Quinn said. "Is Grandma all right?"

Helen nodded. "She's doing very well."

"Then what's wrong?" Daria said.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Then what's with the look on your face?"

"Girls, your grandmother has agreed to set up college funds for each of you." Helen let out her breath. "Very generous college funds."

"Wow," Quinn said.

"Did Amy have something to do with this?" Daria said.

"She must be behind it, because I can't think of anybody who could talk, bribe or blackmail Mother into setting one up for John, also."

Daria jumped up. "John?"

"Yes, sweetie. She said that he's family, now."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.

January 2011


	49. Acceptances

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
This is the forty-ninth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Acceptances**

"Welcome to Raft," Daria read from the cover letter of the thick envelope that had arrived in the day's mail.

"Cool," John said, sitting on the sofa next to her and flipping through the rest of the mail. "Did you see anything from BFAC?"

"Not yet," Daria said.

John gave her a hug and said, "Well, congratulations. That's one down."

"One to go," she said, hugging him in return.

"It feels weird that we're almost done with high school."

"Feels like we've been at it forever."

"I wonder if we're going to be saying that in four years when we're getting ready to graduate from college."

Daria smirked and said, "Assuming we don't take the usual path of five or six years for a degree."

"Even if she finally considers me family, I don't think your grandmother will pay for us to stay that long."

"Hmm, good point."

Curious, John said, "So, what's in the goodie packet?"

Daria pulled the remaining items from the envelope. "Let's see. Course catalog. Student housing guide. Instructions for online registration. Raft code of conduct. New student coupons to local businesses. And a guide to fraternities and sororities."

"Hmm, that about covers everything. You'd think that they had practice at this or something."

"You think?" Daria asked.

Helen came down the stairs and said, "Anything interesting in the mail?"

"I've been accepted at Raft," Daria said.

"Congratulations, sweetie." Helen glanced around and whispered, "Raft is much better than Middleton."

"You don't have to whisper," Daria said. "Dad's upstairs."

"But we still haven't heard from BFAC yet," John said.

"Patience, John," Helen said. "I'm sure you'll get the good news any day now."

"I hope it's good news."

"You're a talented young artist with a lot to offer them."

"Except stellar grades. Granted, they're a lot better than my straight C average as a freshman, but"

"You have a well-rounded high school experience that will make the difference."

"Whether I wanted it or not."

Helen winked and said, "Sometimes, we have to be dragged kicking and screaming into doing what's best for us."

"That sounds like you're trying to talk to us about experience again," John said.

Helen shrugged. "Feel free to interpret that as you wish. I'll go start on dinner. And again, congratulations, Daria."

After Helen went to the kitchen, John said, "Are you rubbing off on her or"

"Don't go there," Daria warned.

* * *

Before school the next morning, John waved to Jodie and Mack in the hallway. "Hey, guys."

The couple turned and walked over to John and Daria. "Hey," Jodie said.

Excited, John said, "Daria got into Raft."

Mack said, "That's great. I got into Vance with a scholarship. I'll be damned, but it looks like that student teaching during the strike put me over the top."

Daria said, "At least you found one silver lining out of that nightmare."

John said, "Jodie, have you heard anything?"

Nervous, Jodie said, "I've been accepted by Turnerand Crestmore."

"Whoa, cool," John said. "Those are great choices."

Daria said, "Congratulations, Jodie, but you seem reluctant about something."

"I really want to go to Turner, but my parents have been pushing Crestmore so much, I don't know."

John said, "But don't they know how much you want to go to Turner?"

Mack, said, "Jodie, have you gotten around to telling them about Turner?"

"No."

"Ah," Daria said. "Now we see the conflict."

Jodie said, "John, what about you?"

"Nothing, yet." He shrugged. "What do you expect from a school full of artists? Efficiency?"

Daria quietly said to Mack, "Nice deflection."

"She's good at it," Mack said.

"Besides," John said. "I'm sure it takes the admissions committee a while to argue over applicant portfolios. 'This is great.' 'No, it sucks.' You know, that kind of thing."

"Hang in there," Jodie said.

"I am, but my toe is getting really tired."

* * *

Leaving the locker room after gym class, John said, "That sucks about Jodie's parents."

Walking alongside, Mack said, "Tell me about it. Jodie's been worried about how to tell them for weeks. Every time she tries, it just doesn't work. I'm starting to think about talking to Mr. Landon myself. Maybe drive to his office before school or something."

"Won't you be late for school?"

Mack shook his head. "According to Jodie, he's usually in his office by seven every morning. I'll have plenty of time."

"Good luck, Mack."

"I'm not ready to do that, yet. Mr. Landon can be kind of scary and walking into his office first thing in the morning to tell him his daughter wants to go to another college is daunting, to say the least."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

"Hey, I could forge a rejection letter from Crestmore."

Not sure if he wanted an answer, Mack said, "What do you know about forgery?"

"Let's just say that it was a useful survival skill when I lived with my original parents."

"Oh."

John said, "Old history. So, do you think it will work?"

"Until Jodie's parents call the admissions office and demand to talk to someone in charge about why their daughter wasn't accepted."

"Oh."

Mack said, "But thanks for the offer. If we ever need something like that in the future"

"You know how to contact me," John said.

* * *

On the other side of the gymnasium, Daria said to Jodie, "After hearing Quinn's boyfriend talk about applying to Bromwell, my mom started to hint at that. I'd hate to think of what she'd be like if I'd applied and been accepted there on top of Raft."

"How did you get out of applying?"

"Played the 'John and I being in the same town' card."

"Damn, I can't pull that one off."

"Any idea of how you're going to tell them?"

"Not yet. Every time I try, I chicken out and talk about something else. I suck. I can stand up and talk to the entire school without a problem, but can't tell my parents where I want to go to college."

"Have you considered a simple _fait accompli_?"

"How so?"

"Acknowledge the Turner acceptance, turn down the one from Crestmore, and then tell your parents."

"Daria, they would hear the detonation in Washington, D.C., and raise the national threat level to DEFCON 1."

"Okay, not a good option."

Jodie nodded. "No, not a good option."

"This really sucks."

"Tell me about it, Daria," Jodie said. "And I still don't know what to do."

* * *

John opened the front door and said, "Oh, hi, Tom."

As he was let in, Tom said, "Hi, John. How are things going?"

"Waiting sucks."

"Waiting?"

"College. Daria got into Raft and I'm still waiting to hear from BFAC. Seems like almost everyone we know has an answer except me." John noticed Tom start to look away and said, "You, too?"

Tom shrugged. "Getting accepted by Bromwell wasn't a big surprise. What with the family legacy and my uncle giving them a wing and all, I would need to do something like snort cocaine off the registrar's desk through a dollar bill to be rejected. The offense being that I used a single instead of a proper hundred dollar bill."

"Money has its privileges."

"At times." Tom checked his watch. "I didn't think I was late."

John said, "Quinn's upstairs putting on her face."

"I don't think anybody spends as much time putting on makeup to make her face look like she's not wearing makeup and doesn't need it."

Not certain if he fully followed, John said, "That's Quinn," figuring it was safe.

"Yeah."

Coming down the stairs, Quinn said, "Hi, Tom. Hope you haven't been waiting long."

"No. Just having a quick word with John."

"Don't worry; I haven't talked his ear off," John said. "Have fun."

"We will," Quinn said. "I insist on it."

Arm in arm with Quinn, Tom said, "I always oblige."

After closing the door, John smirked and said, "Boy do they deserve each other."

Daria quietly came down the stairs and said, "Shoot me if I ever start to act like that."

"Eh, they're kind of cute."

"In a nauseating kind of way."

"Speaking of nauseating, Tom got into Bromwell. Not that the actual getting in was nauseating, just hearing about it."

"You should hear from BFAC soon enough." Daria studied him and then said, "You did give them this address and not your old one, right?"

"Yes, I gave the right address. I even wrote it neatly, too."

"Like you said before, they are probably arguing over portfolios and lost track of the time."

"I hope you're right. Otherwise, I'll hate trying to live in your dorm closet."

"I don't think my future roommate would care for that, either."

* * *

Leading a pack of cheerleaders down the hallway, Brittany spotted John and Daria. With a joyful squeak, she ran over to them. "All of us got in!"

"Got in to what?" Daria said, wondering if it was a wise move to even ask.

"Great Prairie State!"

"Congratulations?" John said. "Why there?"

"We're going to be on the squad!"

Daria said, "All of you?"

"Yes! Isn't it exciting? We're going to be Wheatwhackers."

"I'm sure you're as excited as the wheat," Daria said.

"I know," Brittany said. "They even grow it right on campus."

John said, "I don't want to know what college students do with a ready supply of wheat."

"I suspect that it is varied and mostly disturbing," Daria said.

Brittany tilted her head. "What's wrong with wheat?"

"Nothing, nothing," Daria said. "Brittany, I think you made the right choice."

"Thank you!"

* * *

Head down on the cafeteria table, John grumbled, "Even Brittany has heard about her application."

Daria said, "She's proud to be cheering for the Wheatwhackers."

Also seated at the table, Mack said, "I know you don't follow football, but they have a competitive team every year."

"So that is a big break for her?" Daria said.

"Pretty big."

"How do you know so much about college cheerleading?" Daria asked.

Jodie said, "Brittany asked us to help her and the rest of the squad with their applications."

"Saved by your girlfriend," Daria said.

"I wonder if it's too late to apply to Lawndale State," John said.

"Be patient, John," Jodie said. "You're not the only one who hasn't heard from their college yet."

"Name someone."

"Kevin?" Jodie said, knowing how weak that sounded.

"Now that gives me confidence."

Coming to John's rescue, Daria said, "Jodie, any progress on telling your parents about Turner?"

"Um, no."

Mack said, "You need to tell them before they start looking for an apartment for you."

Daria said, "You're not going to stay in a dorm?"

Jodie said, "Crestmore doesn't require it and Mom said, 'After what happened to me, Jodie's going to stay in a dorm over my dead body.' She meant it."

"Lucky you," Daria said. "Raft requires freshmen to stay on campus. I guess they don't want us to get lost in the big city. What about Turner?"

"They don't require it, either. That's another up side to Turner; the rent isn't anywhere near as high."

Daria said, "That sounds like a good talking point."

Jodie shook her head. "According to my dad, money is no object when it comes to my education. He'll pay the higher rent in a heartbeat so he can brag about me going to Crestmore."

"I'm still willing to talk to him," Mack said.

Jodie shook her head. "Thanks, but no. I've got to do this myself. Eventually."

* * *

"Hey, Trent," John said, stopping by his brother's apartment after school.

Seated on an old sofa and scratching a black mixed-breed dog behind the ears, Trent said, "Hey, Johnny. Come on in."

The dog barked and wagged his tail at seeing the visitor. John squatted down and patted him. "I see Damien's doing well."

"I wrote a jingle for Lawndale Meat Market and they're giving me a year's supply of dog bones for him."

"Getting the good stuff, I see."

"What's up?" Trent asked.

John sat down and said, "Worried about college."

"Gonna be weird without you in town."

"If I go."

"Huh? I thought you were going to art school."

"I applied."

"Yeah."

"I haven't heard anything, yet."

"They're slow?"

John said, "Almost everyone I know has heard one way or the other."

"Maybe they fell asleep."

"Only you would think of that as a likely excuse."

"It's a gift."

"Any wise brotherly advice?"

"Eyes on the prize. Eyes on the prize."

"Um"

"They haven't said no, so it ain't over yet."

"Okay, Trent. Thanks," John said, oddly feeling better.

* * *

Standing at the front door of the Landon house facing Mack, Jodie said, "I need to do this myself. But, if I don't do it tonight, you have my permission to try tomorrow. Agreed?"

Mack said, "Agreed."

"Thanks."

"Don't you find it odd that we're starting to make deals like John and Daria?"

"No, just disturbing. I hope that we're rubbing off on them the same way."

Mack rubbed his forearm and looked at it. "I think we would've noticed."

"Smartass."

Mack kissed Jodie. "Good luck."

"I'm going to need it. I'll call you later with all the gory details."

Inside the house, Jodie found her parents in the den, both reading. Her stomach twisted and she felt like the blood was draining from her face. Neither parent looked up from their magazines while Jodie fought her internal battle.

After taking a step back, she whispered, "No," and stepped forward to the center of the room. "Mom, Dad, we need to talk about something."

"Yes, dear?" her mother said.

"We're listening," her father said, his nose still firmly in his magazine.

Jodie's resolve started to fade again and she wished she was anywhere but there. Her mother turning a page renewed her determination. "In addition to Crestmore, I applied to Turner and I've been accepted."

Michelle said, "Why would you do that?"

"I suppose it doesn't hurt to mention that you were also accepted there before going to Crestmore," Andrew said.

"I want to go to Turner instead of Crestmore."

Both of her parents lowered their magazines. Andrew said, "Why would you do that?"

"So I don't have to be the perfect little African-American girl on display all the time."

"I'm sorry, Jodie," Michelle said, "but that's life. You need to get used to it."

"Think of all of the contacts you'll make at Crestmore. Their alumni are running this country."

"Yeah, and most of them already know each other from their country clubs and are only interested in people like me for what they can use me for. I want to go to Turner. The way you went. The way grandma went."

Andrew said, "We didn't have a choice, Jodie."

"And you are not giving me one!" she angrily said. Her temper had finally risen to the top. "Think about it, Dad. You are treating me exactly the way you were treated. Exactly!"

Andrew and Michelle both stood still without speaking.

Jodie said, "I am asking you to give me what you always said you wanted for me the ability to choose the life I wish to lead without being told that I can't."

Andrew and Michelle continued to stand there.

"I choose to go to Turner."

Michelle glanced at Andrew and then brought her attention back to Jodie. "You're right. We all should be able to make choices for ourselves without being told that you can't."

Sensing the undercurrent to Michelle's comment, Andrew immediately capitulated and said, "If you are that determined to go to Turner, we're behind you."

Suddenly calmer, Jodie said, "Thank you."

* * *

Over lunch at the school cafeteria, Daria said, "So the great Turner-Crestmore controversy is over and you were successful."

Jodie said, "I guess there are times when getting pissed off is the answer."

"Note to self," Mack said. "Don't piss off Jodie."

"Don't piss your girlfriend off is always a good plan," John said.

Jodie smirked and said to Daria, "They train well, don't they?"

"It's amazing what you can do with a rolled-up newspaper," Daria said.

Mack said, "Are we going to let them talk about us like that?"

"Yes," John said.

Mack nodded. "I thought so."

"Now we need one more college success. You're next, John," Jodie said.

John frowned. "I'm beginning to think that they lost my application."

"At least that means they haven't consciously rejected you," Jodie said.

"Not that it would do me any good," John said.

"Until Mom got a hold of them," Daria said. "Why do you think she made us keep copies of everything?"

"Force of habit?"

"Well, yes, and with good reason."

"You people won't even let me sit here in my paranoia, will you?"

"Not when we can have so much fun at your expense," Mack said.

* * *

Going through the mail when they got home, Daria found a letter and said, "Small and thin not good."

"What was that?" John said, walking up behind her.

"Um"

"Hey, that looks like it's from BFAC."

"It is," Daria said, sounding wary.

John took the letter and held it, remembering Daria's packet. "Ooh."

Daria said, "It might be best to get it over with right away."

John nodded, closed his eyes and ripped the envelope open. After a moment, he unfolded it and read.

He stumbled back and sat down on one of the sofas. Daria immediately sat down and put her arm around him. "I'm so sorry. Look, we'll figure something out. We still have a little time."

John smiled. "I got in."

"What?"

He read, "Welcome to Boston Fine Arts College. Your welcome packet, new student guide and registration information will arrive in the following weeks. All of the faculty here at BFAC look forward to meeting you."

Daria took the letter and read it herself. "Those bastards."

"Bastards?"

"Sending you something that looks like everyone else's rejection letters."

"Oh, that."

Daria leaned over and kissed him. "You got in. We're going to Boston."

"You're right. We're going to Boston together." John put his arms around Daria and drew her into a long kiss.

Arriving home, Quinn opened the front door and saw them. "Come on, guys, show a little dignity, will you? Go up to one of your rooms. Sheesh."

* * *

Leaving gym class, Mack said, "I told you not to worry."

John said, "No, you didn't. You and everyone else were having great amusement at my paranoia and fear."

"Maybe a little bit."

"At least you and Daria will be in the same town. The shuttle between Vance and Turner is going to be tricky."

Daria and Jodie joined them with Jodie saying, "But we'll manage. We don't have a choice."

Daria said, "Tell your dad to use the money he'll be saving on rent to get you a private jet."

"I don't think he's going to be saving that much moneybut it might save enough for semi-regular plane tickets."

Overwhelmingly excited, Kevin ran up to them. "I gotta thank you."

"Okay," John said. "For what?"

"Tutoring. I'm going to college."

"You got into college?" John said.

"I'm going to be the QB!"

Mack said, "Of course, you are."

Daria asked, "Where?"

"East Chesapeake College. I'm going to be an Oystershucker!"

John said, "We're happy for you."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.

March - April 2011


	50. Boxed In

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
This is the fiftieth John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Boxed In**

Helen spoke into her cell phone while pacing back and forth in the kitchen as two delivery men finished installing a new refrigerator. "Oh, Eric, I'm so sorry I'm running late. I had a household emergencyOh, our refrigerator suddenly brokeWhat do you mean I should chill? I'm perfectly relaxed! Oh, refrigerator! Chill!" After a short, forced laugh, she said, "Oh, I agree. There's nothing funny about food poisoning."

Daria wandered into the room and said, "Unless someone else gets it. Then it's frivolity city."

Following her, John said, "Unless their aim is bad and you're the only one around to clean it up."

"Eww," Quinn said as she joined them. "Why would you say that?"

"Personal experience. But Trent learned to never eat fuzzy food again after that."

"Eww."

John shrugged. "I suppose that is another way to describe it."

* * *

John and Daria were walking between classes when Ms. Li's voice came over the PA system, "Attention, Lawndale High students. It has come to my attention that during our all-important Trail Mix Fund Drive Week, some individuals have been flaunting outside snacks from non-school-affiliated sources. Now, students...the Booster Club, Leadership Club, Chess Club, Dominoes Club, football, basketball, lacrosse and marbles teams, as well as the Fraternal Brotherhood of Future Marketing and Promotion Executives, need your help. I'm afraid we are going to have to institute snack spot checks! I'm sorry, young people, but you have abused your privileges!"

When the PA clicked off, Daria said, "We can't get out of this place soon enough."

John pulled a candy bar from his pocket and offered it to Daria. "A little bootleg chocolate to take your mind off things?"

Daria took it and said, "That works."

"And we have less than a month to go."

"Why don't we have time machines when we need them?"

"That would make life too easy."

"I figured it would be something like that."

* * *

The cafeteria was as crowded and noisy as ever while Quinn talked to the rest of the Fashion Club. "It's kind of the Sloanes' private resort on the coast."

Eyes open in wonder and resting her chin on both hands, Stacy said, "Wow."

Sandi said, "So, what are you going to wear? Getting the right look for a wedding can be so difficult."

"I won't actually be there for the wedding," Quinn said. "My mother doesn't want me to miss class, but I'll go up for the weekend. Most of that will be casual."

"Oh," Sandi said.

"That is, casual for the Sloanes."

Tiffany said, "Quinn, are you sure Tom doesn't have a brother?"

"Positive."

"Can't you get your sister to clone him or something? I'll pay."

"She's smart, but not that smart. Sorry."

"Maybe I can find someone online."

Quinn sighed and focused on her salad. "Yes, Tiffany."

* * *

With class almost over, Ms. Ruiz turned and said, "And now for another responsibility I inherited when I took the job. The school needs volunteers to lead incoming freshmen tours."

The class sat in silence.

"Anybody?"

The class sat still.

"I would say that it would look good on college applications, but everyone has probably already heard from most of their colleges."

When Daria faintly whistled, Ms. Ruiz shook her head and turned around. "I really should've read the fine print."

* * *

Standing in the kitchen and stirring a pot, John said, "Daria, could you please pass me the oregano?"

Also at the counter, Daria selected the spice from a rack and handed it to him. "Here."

Standing behind them and reading the manual of the new refrigerator, Helen said, "Hmm, the different vegetable bins have individual thermostats. That could be handy."

Sitting in the living room and painting her nails, Quinn said, "Hey, no more mushy celery sticks when you have to set the temperature for carrots."

Daria said, "Another milestone in the progress of science."

Looking up from the manual, Helen glanced out of the window. "Oh, isn't that ridiculous? They carted off that heavy, old refrigerator and left the cardboard box."

Daria looked over her shoulder. "You can't rely on anyone to finish the job."

Helen said, "Well, it's light. One of you three can take it out to the curb."

"We're busy with dinner," John said. "Quinn?"

"My nails are still wet," she said.

Daria said, "Hey, why don't you put Dad to work?"

"He ran off when he heard about a last-minute opening at some marketing conference. One of you will just have to do it later."

"That sounds like Jake," John said. "What about you?"

Seeing her mother's glare at John, Daria said, "Didn't we have a refrigerator box when I was a kid? I seem to remember spending a lot of time playing in one."

After a brief laugh, John said, "You know, I remember having one, too. Helen, can you keep an eye on things for a minute?"

"I guess. Why?"

"I've got an idea."

* * *

Standing in the door to John's room after dinner, Helen crossed her arms and said, "Oh, for goodness sakes. You brought that box up here?"

Spreading his arms over the box, John said, "It's full of possibilities!"

"I hope it's not full of ants from the yard."

"I'm reasonably sure it's critter-free."

Helen shrugged. "It's your room. If you want to trip over it in the middle of the night, I'm not going to stop you."

After Helen left, Daria said, "So, what is your plan?"

John replied, "You said you remember playing in a box like this. Same here. Maybe we can kind of recreate our old boxes."

"You want to regress into childhood? That would require going through school all over again."

"Not regress, but visit."

Daria walked up to the box and touched it. "You know, you might be on to something."

* * *

Seated next to the box and drawing on it with crayons, Daria said, "This is going to be a schizophrenic box."

On the other side, John said, "You had a house as a kid and I had a fort; what do you expect?"

Thinking back to Highland, Daria said, "You wouldn't believe how girly my room was at the time."

"Was your mother in charge of the dcor?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm not surprised at all."

Daria laughed. "What about yours?"

"Eh, it was mostly hand-me-downs or stuff I made myself one of the disadvantages of being the youngest of five and, well, less than attentive parents."

"Sorry."

"I've mostly come to terms with it. Last summer cleared things up a lot."

"But not everything?"

"No." After shaking his head, John grabbed a sketchpad and crawled inside the box. "I remember spending a lot of time in my fort drawing."

"I used to spend a lot of time reading." Daria stood and, as she walked to her room, said, "I'll be right back."

In her room, Daria scanned the bottom row of her bookshelf and, after a moment, picked out a worn copy of _Black Beauty._ "It's been ages since I read this."

Later, as Daria pulled the covers up and closed her eyes to go to sleep, the distant memory of a slamming door caused her to hold the sheet tight and want to crawl back into the safety of the box.

In his room, John looked at the dark shape of the box. Oddly, he then recalled a box of half a dozen cupcakes with a candle placed on each one.

* * *

"What are you two doing in there?" Quinn said the next morning as she looked into John's room. "And please tell me that you're fully dressed."

Daria put a bookmark in place and crawled from the box. "We're sharing a bit of our mutual childhoods. What are you doing in here, anyway? I thought you were driving down to visit Tom and his family."

"I am," Quinn said. "But, um, I wanted a little advice first."

"From us?" John said, still inside the box.

"I'm going away for the weekend with my boyfriend. Umyou know how people talk."

Daria said, "Ah, I see. Tell the truth. Your friends will accept and those who don't accept aren't your friends and wouldn't believe you anyway."

"Okay."

"You're nervous," John said.

"Yeah," Quinn quietly said.

Daria said, "Tom seems to be well behaved."

"Oh, he's always been a gentleman. He's really been good about not pressuring me or anything."

"You're thinking about pressuring him," Daria said.

"Not really pressure, just, umsuggest."

John said, "I guess, do what you feel is comfortable."

"And be safe," Daria said.

Quinn closed her eyes. "Please, Mom and Dad already gave me that speech."

Daria put a hand on Quinn's shoulder. "We had to endure it too."

"What do you suggest, Daria?"

"What I always suggest. Do what you feel is right. If you don't feel that things are right, don't."

"You make it sound so easy."

Daria reached over with her free hand to hold John's. "If things are right, it is."

* * *

Tom walked out to greet the approaching red SUV. As soon as the door opened, he said, "Glad you could make it, Quinn."

Quinn flexed her fingers and said, "The drive was horrible."

"That's one advantage to letting Dad do all the work," Tom said, taking her hand into his and gently massaging it. "The wedding was even duller than I thought it would be; you didn't miss anything."

"So what's going on now?"

"Dad and my uncle are playing checkers while Mom and Elsie are playing tennis. The rest of the family is off doing this and that."

"I thought you said this was a family gathering."

"It is. The Sloanes all get together in one place to go off and do our own things. They wouldn't want to do anything like talk, now would they?"

"Well"

"Which means we can talk and nobody will bother us. Except for Elsie when she gets off the court, but that's for general sisterly annoyance."

Her hands feeling better, she held his and said, "If they're all so busy, do you think, maybe, that we could spend some time alone?"

"It shouldn't be difficult. Hardly anyone actually goes out along the beach."

"I was thinking about, uh, a more private kind of alone."

"You mean like oh." After a moment's confusion, he said, "Are you sure?"

"I think so."

"Okay. But, look, if you change your mind or anything"

Quinn smiled and kissed him. "I know you'll do the right thing."

* * *

Getting home from the conference, Jake set his suitcase down and went to the empty kitchen. There, he found a note and read, "Jake, in case you get home early, I went to Food Lord to pick up something for dinner. Quinn has already left for her visit with the Sloanes. Daria and John are upstairs."

Setting the note down, he shrugged and said, "Okay. I guess I'd better say hello."

Whistling, he trotted upstairs and saw the door to John's room was open. When he looked in, he was initially confused, but then he smiled. "Hey kids, are you in there?"

John crawled out of the box. "We're here."

"I remember Daria used to have a box like that, back when she was this high," Jake said, holding his hand about waist level.

Daria appeared and said, "You do?"

"Sure, kiddo. Hey, you've decorated it, too. Wow."

"What else do you remember about it?"

"You'd hide in there when you didn't want Quinn to disturb your reading. Boy, did you like to read. John, have we ever told you how she almost wore out her library card?"

He grinned. "Oh, I can believe it."

Daria said, "Did I hide in there at other times?"

Jake laughed. "When you didn't want me or Helen to disturb your reading."

"Anything else?"

"Um"

Daria shrugged. "Oh, don't worry about it."

"Okay."

As Jake smiled and walked to his room, John remembered the cupcakes, the box, and what they meant together.

* * *

Sitting on the bed while Jake snoozed next to her, Helen sighed at the sight of legal papers spread over her lap and bed. "That's enough for one night," she said before scooping it all into her briefcase and setting the offending luggage on the floor.

She then curled up next to her husband and said, "Good night, Jakey."

"Hmm? Huh?" he muttered, now partially awake.

"Just me. Good night."

"Oh, good night, Helen," he said as he put one arm around her shoulder. His eyes closed for a second and then opened again. "Do you remember that refrigerator box Daria had as a kid?"

"No," Helen mumbled.

"Sure you do, honey," he said. "When she was a little girl."

"Nothing."

"She used to read in it all the time."

Helen opened her eyes. "Now, I remember something."

"Do you remember her falling asleep in it? I can't remember why I was coming home in the morning, but I can picture myself checking on her. I almost panicked when she wasn't in bed, but then I found her in the box. She was so cute, but I got the idea she was hiding from something."

Helen held her hands to her face as her memory raced back.

Jake said, "I think Daria remembers some of it and it bothers her."

"I remember."

* * *

Holding a bouquet of flowers, Quinn looked at the flickering candles and said, "Oh, how romantic. You're so sweet."

Tom gently placed a hand on her forearm. "I wanted things to be special."

"They are. You are."

"I was going to say the same thing about you."

Quinn leaned against him. "This feels right."

"Yeah, it does."

She moved closer. After several seconds, she said, "Are you sure this is private?"

"Positive. Nobody comes out here to the beach cabin because it's too far to walk."

She looked up at his face and smiled. "Good."

* * *

Helen was already in the kitchen, preparing flapjacks, when Daria and John walked in. "Mom, you're up early," Daria said.

"I thought I'd do something special and get a few moments to talk to you."

"Okay" Daria said, going on automatic defense while John went to the coffee maker and prepared two mugs.

"You and John's box project reminded Jake and me of a few things from when you were about six years old. We think you might remember some, too."

"I remember reading and playing in my old box. It was my little refuge from the world."

"Even when your parents were fighting," Helen said.

The loss of color from Daria's cheeks told Helen that her daughter remembered.

"You were already a bright girl and almost a year older than some of your classmates," Helen explained. "It was all new to us and we didn't understand what you were going through when the school called us. We were young, stressed and took our frustration out on each other. One night, after a big fight, your father ran out and stayed overnight in a hotel. You heard and hid in your box."

Daria nodded.

"Do you remember how you got back into bed?"

"No."

"Jake carried you there when he got home."

"Oh."

"You were unhappy and we didn't know what to do. We tried our best, but I know it wasn't enough. I like to think we've learned a little bit since then."

Daria said, "You have. I never thought about how my problems caused so many for you."

Helen used a spatula to lift a flapjack from the griddle and put it on a plate. Offering it to Daria, she said, "It comes with the job."

Daria accepted the plate. "I feel like I owe you."

"Have a good life and you'll be paid in full."

"That sounds like a pretty easy deal."

Helen smirked. "The easiest one you'll ever get out of me."

When John stepped over with the coffee, Helen served up a second flapjack and gave it to him, asking, "What do you remember about your box?"

The previous night's remembrance came to him. "It was my sixth birthday present, along with a jumbo pack of crayons," he said. "I guess that was one of the times money was tight for my parents. Instead of a cake, we had a six-pack of cupcakes. It was probably a good thing Wind wasn't living at home or someone would've been left out."

"Oh, my," Helen said.

"The box was mine and I was able to make it whatever I wanted. After last summer, I know that Mom and Dad tried their best, too. A few years ago, I would've been mad, but nowI have sympathy for them."

"That's very mature of you, John," Helen said.

"I've had a few good influences."

Accepting the compliment with a nod, Helen then said, "I can almost picture you as a little Calvin in his time machine."

John said, "Well, except for the hair."

Daria said, "I don't even want to know what you made with a transmogrifier."

"Just imagine what I could do with one now." After eating a bite of breakfast, John leaned against the counter. "I wore that box out. Thinking back, it was probably the present I played with the most. They didn't have much money, but they knew what I would like."

"You're getting awfully philosophical this morning," Daria said. "Especially considering that you've barely had any coffee."

"You got me thinking, damn you," John said. "I'd be tempted to go see them, but the last I heard, Dad was in New Zealand and Mom was in Saskatchewan."

Helen said, "They travel a lot."

John nodded in agreement. "But I think I'll go see Trent." He took a bite and said, "After breakfast."

* * *

"Mmm," Quinn hummed as she opened her eyes. The real feather bed in the guest suite, which was decorated with _art nouveau_ elegance, felt like sleeping on a cloud and her mood matched the feeling. Smiling, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and rose, picking up a robe from the nearby dresser on her way to the bathroom.

Half an hour later, she came back out with the same soft smile on her lips. After changing clothes, she walked out into the hallway to go downstairs.

Elsie Sloane was coming up the stairs and saw Quinn. "You're smiling as much as Tom this morning."

"What?"

"You and Tom. Your absence was noted last night and some of us saw the candlelight in the beach cabin."

Quinn sighed. "Elsie, please don't"

"Tom would have to do something really stupid to make me angry enough to use the nuclear option and in that case, nobody would win. You're safe; I won't say a word."

"Thanks, Elsie."

"But try to dim the glow. I think even my parents could see it."

"Thanks for the warning."

"And you two owe me for keeping our cousins from going down there to investigate."

"Oh, my god."

Elsie waved and said, "See you later."

"Bye," Quinn said, warily turning and going downstairs.

Elsie watched her and then grinned. "Aw, my brother is growing up."

Downstairs, Tom greeted her with, "Sleep well?"

"Yes," Quinn said. "I ran into Elsie on the way down. I think we owe her a favor."

* * *

"Ah, there they are," John said as he looked around the corner to the alley behind the Zon where the members of Mystik Spiral were loading their gear into the Tank. The very slow motion told John that they also had hangovers. "Hey, guys," he said.

"Ah!" Max cried.

Nick glared at Max. "Quiet."

"We don't need this," Trent said. Looking up, he said, "Oh, hey, Johnny."

"I think you guys have had better mornings."

Trent squinted. "Yeah, you could say that."

"What was that stuff we were drinking?" Jesse said.

"I don't know, but it was green," Max said.

"I thought it was orange," Nick said.

Trent said, "Those were the glow sticks."

"Cool," Jesse said.

Trent led John away from the van. "What's up?"

"I've been thinking about Mom and Dad."

"What about them?"

"They were struggling, financially, for a long time, weren't they? A lot longer than I realized or they even admitted when the Morgendorffers adopted me."

Trent nodded. "Yeah. What made you think about that?"

"I remembered something from my sixth birthday. They gave me crayons and a big box."

"Oh, yeah."

"Things have got to be bad if that's all you can afford, but they still gave me something that meant a lot to me."

"They've always loved you, Johnny."

"I know, and I'm slowly learning how hard things were for them."

"I wish they would've been home for you."

"Yeah, but I think I ended up where I needed to be."

Trent tousled John's hair. "Yeah, you did."

"So, do you think Mom was right with all of her 'everything happens for a reason' stuff?"

"Nah, you got lucky. Glad you did."

"Thanks."

"What about you?"

Trent looked back at the band. "I kind of found my own luck."

"The band?"

Trent shrugged. "We don't make much money, but we're doing what we want to do. That's lucky in my book."

"Yeah, it is."

* * *

Watching television with Jake, Helen looked up when Quinn opened the door. "Welcome back; how was your trip?"

"I had a good time, Mom."

Jake said, "How was the Sloanes' little getaway place?"

"Very nice. Oh, Kay and Angier say 'Hi,' to both of you."

"How nice," Helen said.

"I want to go freshen up after the drive home."

"Go on," Helen said. "You can tell us all about it when you come back down."

"Okay," Quinn said, hurrying up the stairs. She dropped her bag in her room and crossed the hall to crack open her sister's door. "Daria?"

"Yes, Quinn?" Daria said, closing her book.

"Got a minute?"

"First minute is free; additional minutes will be pro-rated to match the subject."

Quinn entered and closed the door. "Relationship stuff."

Daria swung her legs over the side of the bed to make room for Quinn. "I'll do what I can, but it's not like I'm a font of wisdom on the subject."

"You're getting things right with John."

"Um, yeah. You seem to be getting along well with Tom."

"Very well," Quinn said.

"So, what's going on?"

"Tom and I, um, slept together last night."

Daria took a moment for the news to sink in. "I see, and you want to know if it's going change things. Yes, it will."

"How?"

"With John, we feel closer. But, let's be honest, we don't get a lot of time alone together that way and it can be frustrating."

"I bet that's one thing you're looking forward to in college."

Daria blushed and said, "Yes."

"Things get more complicated, don't they?"

"You are going to be closer, more intimate, more vulnerable and there's a whole new set of things to miscommunicate over. So yes, things will be more complicated."

"And he's leaving for Bromwell in a few months."

"I don't know what to tell you except that I wouldn't be happy separated from John."

"I guess it's something we'll have to figure out on our own."

Daria said, "I'm getting the feeling that's what most couples do, anyway."

"Thanks for listening," Quinn said.

"No charge," Daria said. "I figure I can cut my sister a break on important things."

* * *

Feeling good when he came home, John stopped by the sofa and said, "Hey, Jake. How's the game?"

Watching TV, Jake said, "The umpires are blind as bats, but for once, they're blind for my team!"

"Enjoy the game," he said, continuing on to the kitchen, where he saw Daria and Quinn seated at the table. "Do I need to be worried about sisterly plotting?"

Daria said, "No, but I could use some backup here."

"For what?"

Quinn shook her head. "Daria, last chance. It's your _senior_ prom. The big one."

"It still has just as much attraction as last year," Daria said. "Though I wouldn't mind John and me continuing our tour around the National Mall. We didn't get to see everything last year."

"When I convinced Tom to go, I swore to myself that I would talk you into it," Quinn said.

Daria said, "You shouldn't make promises to yourself that you can't keep."

The rest of the conversation faded for John as he remembered their prom-avoidance trip the year before and the promise he had made.

* * *

Some dialog from _Boxing Daria_ by Glenn Eichler  
Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.

May-June 2011


	51. Promises Kept

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
This is the fifty-first John Lane story

Richard Lobinske

**Promises Kept**

Jodie Landon groaned, "Please, please show up, if only to protect our sanity."

Seated across the cafeteria table from Jodie, Daria said, "I'm sorry, but I'm not protecting anyone's sanity at the cost of my own."

Seated next to Jodie, Mack said, "Why don't you put a Nietzsche twist onto it? That which doesn't destroy you makes you stronger."

Next to Daria, John said, "But the prom could very well destroy us, or at least the higher functions of our brains. If it destroys you, it doesn't make you stronger."

"You don't have to go," Daria said. "Nobody is holding a gun to your head."

"They might as well be," Jodie said. "The sad reality is that Mack and I are stuck. Completely stuck. We're begging you for some moral, immoral or amoral support."

"We don't care which," Mack said.

John said, "We already have plans." He glanced at Daria. "We made them a year ago."

Jodie sighed and rested her forehead on her hand. "Damn you two with your foresight and planning."

"It's mostly her," John said. "But I have to admit, it rubs off after a while."

"So, what are your plans?" Mack asked.

"If all goes well," Daria said, "a return trip to Washington. You can't see everything in one day."

"In that case, have some fun for us," Jodie said. "You can tell us about it when you get back."

Daria replied, "For you, I think we can do that."

* * *

At the dinner table with the rest of the family, Quinn said, "Mr. Sloane offered to let us use the limousine and driver he has on retainer for important business guests. Besides, Mrs. Sloane said that she wasn't allowing a tuxedo and a good prom dress anywhere near Tom's car."

Helen said, "I knew I liked her."

"Wow! I bet it's real nice, too," Jake said, excited for his daughter.

"It's a Bentley. The same kind used by the Queen of England."

John said, "Sweet."

Daria looked at John. "You're impressed by the car?"

"If you're going to go for over-the-top extravagance, a Bentley limo will do it," he said.

"We could be talked into giving you and Daria a ride to the prom," Quinn said.

"Won't be needed," Daria said. "I am curious about what you are doing about the two-prom problem."

"Lawndale's prom starts at seven and Fielding's at eight. We'll leave Lawndale's early and be fashionably late to Fielding's. A win all the way around. It will be even more of a win if you and John come along?"

"If you give us a ride to the prom and then leave for Fielding, how will we get home?" Daria said.

"We'll send the driver back for you, silly. I have it all planned."

"Except for the part where John and I will be in Washington, D. C., for the day."

Helen said, "Quinn, they've made their decision."

"Mom?"

"You know as well as I do that they won't be happy at a prom, but they will be happy at a museum. They're not trying to talk you out of the prom to go to a museum, are they?"

"No," Quinn said, accepting defeat.

"Good."

Daria said, "Thanks, Mom."

"I learned my lesson last year. But I will ask you to do one thing this time."

"Sure," John said.

"Check the weather reports before you leave."

* * *

Daria stopped by John's room. "That was suspiciously easy."

Hot-gluing decorative shells onto a free-form sculpture, John said, "What was too easy?"

"Quinn giving up so quickly on talking us into going to the prom and Mom not even trying."

"Oh. Yeah, that was odd, but I'll take it."

"Maybe I'm being too suspicious."

"Or I'm not being suspicious enough. Either way, why don't we do something more productive, like thinking about our trip?"

"Okay. I think we need to visit the Library of Congress this time."

"We can do that. Though knowing us, we may not make it anywhere else."

Daria said, "Then it makes planning easy."

"I like the way you think."

"Hmm."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing, just a thought about my mother."

* * *

Next, Daria pushed the door to her parents' room open. "Mom?"

"Yes, sweetie?" Helen said, propped up on the bed and sorting through briefs.

"Your support means a lot."

"You've earned it. Besides, I've learned that some battles are not worth fighting."

"I can be a little stubborn, can't I?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea of where you may have gotten it from."

"I didn't think you would."

Helen smiled. "Don't forget to take more pictures."

"Please, Mom, like John is going to forget."

"You're right. But make sure you take a couple of him. Otherwise, he won't be in a single one."

"Orders received and will be carried out."

"I have one more order for you, Daria."

"Yes?"

"Have a good time."

* * *

"I'm off for a run!" John called as he opened the door. "Back later."

In the living room, Quinn waited until John closed the door before she asked Daria, "Where is he going?"

"For a run," Daria said.

"With a wallet full of cash? He's doing more than running."

"How do you know that he has a wallet full of cash?"

"Daria ﾖ I know what a full wallet looks like in a guy's back pocket and since John doesn't have credit cards, it has to be cash."

"How did you see that heﾅwait a minute. You were looking at John's ass?"

"Me and almost every other heterosexual girl at school. Tell me that you've never checked out Tom's ass."

"Umﾅ"

"Exactly. And I noticed that there was a fat wallet on top of John's. So, what's up?"

Daria sighed. "Preparation for our trip."

"Okay, care to elaborate?"

"Not really."

Quinn crossed her arms. "Daria."

Daria crossed hers in return. "I'm not asking for details about what you and Tom have planned, am I?"

Quinn frowned. "No."

"Good."

"But you know what Tom and I are doing. I don't know what you and John are doing."

"Spending the day at the Library of Congress and dinner at a good restaurant."

"If that's all, then why is he sneaking out with a big wad of cash?"

"Good try, Quinn, but I still don't wish to elaborate."

"You're up to something."

Daria shrugged.

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "I'm going to be watching, sis."

"Watch away."

* * *

"Enjoy your run?" Quinn asked when John arrived home.

"It was there," he replied.

"Just, 'there'?"

"Why are you so suddenly interested in my run?"

"Because you and Daria are going off on a big date this weekend, you left with a big wad of cash in your wallet and you returned without the cash. Don't deny it; you're not that good of a liar."

John glared at Quinn.

She said, "You're up to something. Something _very_ romantic."

"Which is between me and Daria. You will find out in time."

"You're no fun."

"Yes, I am," John said. "And what we have in mind will be more fun if you don't have advanced word."

"Sheesh, it's not fair that it's always two against one around here," Quinn said.

* * *

In the hallway outside of Mr. DeMartino's class, Jodie approached Daria. "I would advise you and John to steer clear of Ms. Li today."

"We do that as a matter of course," Daria said, "but what's special about today?"

"Ticket sales for the prom are off over ten percent from last year."

"And she's blaming us for starting a trend?"

Jodie said, "Is it really blame when it's the truth? Mack and I have heard from several people that they're not going to the prom after hearing that you and John were not."

"So? If you could figure a way out of it, you and Mack wouldn't go."

"Exactly. That's why I know that Ms. Li is right."

"Okay, so we stay away from Ms. Li."

"Ms. Morgendorffer!"

Jodie quickly looked at the principal rapidly approaching and said, "Too late."

Daria said, "Yes, Ms. Li?"

Ms. Li barked, "Are you aware of the trend you and Mr. Lane are setting?"

"I've just been informed, but I don't see the problem since you didn't have an issue with us missing the prom last year."

"Last year, you hadn't started a trend that had seriously impacted prom revenues."

"It's not like we're forcing anyone to do anything," Daria said.

"No, you're setting an example that they follow."

"It's not like we're making the slightest effort to convince anyone to follow our example. Well, except for Jodie and Mack, and we completely failed at that."

"Other students look up to you, so you don't have to make any effort."

"Ms. Li, we made the choice on our own for our reasons and I hope that is the example that these others are following, if they are following anything. Otherwise, there really is nothing we can do since we've already made plans for tomorrow."

Ms. Li frowned. "Very well, Ms. Morgendorffer. I will simply ask that in your short remaining time at Lawndale High, you remember that you are an example."

"I'd much rather forget, but after today, I don't think that I can."

* * *

After Quinn got into the car, Tom said, "Okay, now why did you ask me to pick you up from school in my mom's car? Please don't let it be something prom related."

Buckling the seat belt, Quinn said, "Because Daria and John haven't seen your mom's car."

Tom pinched his nose. "You want to spy on your sister and her boyfriend?"

"This is important, Tom. Yes."

"What are we looking for?"

"I don't know."

"So why are we looking?"

"Because they're up to something."

Confused, Tom said, "I'm guessing that they are doing something out of the ordinary."

"Exactly!"

"From what I've seen, they do that all the time. So, why are we spying on them?"

"Because Daria's my sister."

"Elsie's my sister and I have no desire to spy on her."

Quinn gently slapped the back of Tom's head. "Elsie isn't romantically involved with anybody."

"Ah, I see. I think."

"They're getting into their car. Follow them."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Going through downtown Lawndale, Tom said, "I think they know we're back here. Daria keeps looking back at us with a frown on her face."

"How does she know it's us?" Quinn asked.

"I'm willing to bet that if we can see her, she can see us."

"You shouldn't have gotten so close!"

"There wasn't much I could've done when several of the cars between us turned off and they could clearly see us."

"Okay, okay," Quinn said. "Let's just go to your house and I'll try to figure out what they're up to later."

"My house? I should warn you that Elsie is dying to know what you're planning to wear tomorrow."

"I can give her the _Reader's Digest_ version for now and then she can see it tomorrow."

* * *

When Quinn got home, Daria and John were on the sofa, watching television. Quinn sighed and said, "You saw us, didn't you?"

John said, "Tell Tom that he would make a lousy spy."

"Or undercover cop," Daria added.

"You win," Quinn said. "I'll stop trying to figure out what you're doing. Just promise me one thing."

"What's that?" Daria said.

"Tell me everything when you're done with whatever you're doing."

John said, "That can be arranged."

"Hey, Quinn," Daria said. "Have a good time tomorrow."

"Thanks, you too."

* * *

Hearing sound from the kitchen when she came down the stairs in the morning, Daria said, "Dad?" when she noticed who was there.

"Good morning, kiddo!" Jake said. "Ready for your big adventure?"

"Not until after breakfast, which it looks like you're making."

Turning a pancake on the griddle, Jake said, "I'm trying your mom's recipe."

"Okay, Dad."

"Cool, coffee," John said as he entered the kitchen and headed directly to the coffee pot.

After pouring a cup and taking a drink, he noticed who was also in the kitchen. "Oh, morning, Jake."

"Hey, John. Ready for some pancakes?"

"Morning ﾖ food ﾖ yes."

"Great!" Jake lifted two plates and said, "Follow me."

He set the plates on the table, next to the preset utensils. "Enjoy."

Taking her seat, Daria said, "You're in a good mood this morning, Dad."

"I am." Jake sat on the other side of the table. "Because I have three great kids."

"There's something more, isn't there?" Daria said.

Jake shrugged and smiled. "You and John are going on your trip. Quinn's getting ready for a big prom night with Tom. I ﾖ I feel like I've done something right that my dad never did."

"As a latecomer to the situation," John said. "I'd have to agree with you."

Jake smiled more. "Great. Now, eat up. There's plenty more," he said, pointing to a rather large mixing bowl that held enough batter to feed the entire household breakfast for the next couple of days.

"I'll do my part," John said, eagerly attacking his breakfast.

"Hi," Quinn said as she walked in.

"Come on, Quinn," Jake said as he stood. "Have some pancakes."

She paused in thought before saying, "Okay, Daddy."

"Coming right up!"

By the time Quinn had taken a seat at the table, Jake had set a plate in front of her. "Enjoy!"

Quinn looked at Daria and mouthed, "Is he all right?"

Daria said, "Dad's in an exceptionally good mood. Roll with it."

When he saw Quinn pour syrup on her pancakes, John said, "Wow. That might be a sign of the apocalypse."

"I'm going to need a lot of energy today and I won't have much time to eat," Quinn said.

"Yeah, if last year's preparation is any clue," Daria said.

"Looking perfect takes time and a lot of work. Tonight, I'm going to look perfect."

"I bet you are," Jake said, sitting back down. "It's going to be a perfect day all the way around."

"Don't jinx it, Dad," Daria said. "But I like your sentiment."

* * *

After a stop at the Madison Building to register for and obtain Reader Identification cards, John and Daria walked to the Jefferson Building and the heart of the Library of Congress. After a quick tour of the rest of the facility and a stop at the Computer Catalog Center to find call numbers for their desired books, they entered the destination of their trip: the Main Reading Room.

Just past the entrance, they stopped and looked up, entranced, at the great dome and ornate stonework that surrounded the circular room. Daria was the first to speak, whispering, "I could get used to a library like this."

John whispered back, "Is it too late to find colleges near here?"

"Yeah, but I understand that Amtrak has direct service from Boston to D.C. I see more trips in our future."

"That'll work."

"We should find a seat."

"Oh, yeah," John said. They found adjacent seats at the large, ornate study carrels. After noting the seat number on their book request forms, they went to the central service desk.

"May I help you?" the young librarian said.

Daria presented her request forms and ID card. "We would like to see these books, please."

"Yes, please," John said, doing the same.

After checking the IDs, the librarian said, "Please have a seat. Your books will be delivered to you in about fifteen to thirty minutes."

Daria said, "Thank you."

When they returned to their seats, John said, "All this and book delivery, too. This is a library with style."

* * *

A loud growl caused the gentleman seated next to Daria to look past her at John, frown and then go back to his reading.

"Sorry," John whispered.

After checking her watch, Daria whispered, "It's almost five and we skipped lunch. I think it's time to feed the beast."

"I'd hate to take you away from your reading," John said, followed by another stomach rumble.

Daria closed her book and said, "I'd hate to be thrown out of the Library of Congress because your stomach disturbed the other patrons. We can try to make it back before we go up to Boston."

"Okay, you win," he said, closing his book.

They returned their books to the service desk, where the librarian gave a polite, "Have a good day," as she accepted them.

After leaving the reading room, Daria said, "Any ideas of where to eat?"

"Someplace close. We're right behind the Capital." John removed a guidebook from his pocket. "There has to be plenty of places to eat around here."

"Heaven forbid that a member of Congress should go hungry."

"My thoughts, too. Hey, there's a whole bunch of places right down Pennsylvania Ave. from here."

Daria studied the guide. "How can we pass up a place called Filibuster Pizza?"

"We can't."

* * *

"Okay, you're thinking about something," Tom said.

Seated at a private table for two at an elegant restaurant with Tom, Quinn said, "What?"

"I said, you're thinking about something."

"Oh, yeah."

"Anything you wish to share?"

"Wondering about Daria. I hope they found someplace nice like this."

"I'm sure that they found someplace that makes them happy."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Given their past behavior, I would give a good chance for a pizza place, but what does it matter?"

"I want the best for my sister." Quinn looked around at the fine setting. "But yeah, a pizza place is probably best for Daria, in her own way. I don't understand it, but I've learned that I can't change it."

"That sounds like a reasonable outcome," Tom said. "You still think that they have something extra planned."

"I'm positive."

* * *

John patted his stomach and leaned back in the booth he shared with Daria. "Oh, that was good."

"I've never seen so many toppings on a pizza," Daria said, equally stuffed.

"The sliced garlic was excellent."

"So was the six-cheese mix."

"And the prosciutto ham."

"Heirloom sweet peppers."

"Fire-roasted tomatoes."

Daria said, "The description was right. Pizza corrupts and Absolute Pizza corrupts absolutely."

John lifted his soda glass. "Here's to corruption."

"Corruption."

"What's next? It's still a little early."

"I want to see the other side of the Mall. How about the Lincoln Memorial?"

"It's a long walk."

"Hold on," Daria said, unfolding a bus map. After examining it and checking the schedule, she said, "We can grab a bus in ten minutes that will take us there."

"Bus is better than walking." After a burp, he added, "Especially after how much I just ate."

* * *

Holding her hand, Tom helped Quinn out of the limo and they turned to face the Lawndale High prom entrance. "Shall we?"

"Please," Quinn said, enjoying the formality.

"You really do look lovely tonight," Tom said, complimenting Quinn's sleek and elegant gown.

"You look handsome," she said. "You know how to wear a tuxedo and not look like you were forced into it."

"I was trained from a young age."

Quinn smiled as they neared the door. "Ready to make a grand entrance?"

"If you're going to make an entrance, you might as well make it memorable," Tom said.

"Memorable. I like that."

* * *

The sun was low behind the Lincoln Memorial when the bus arrived. Daria and John walked up the steps and took time to look at the timeless sculpture.

"It makes you feelﾅI don't know," John said.

"Likeﾅthat we haven't accomplished much compared to others. Humbling."

"We are still teenagers."

Daria sat on the top step, still looking at the statue. "Teenagers with more advantages than we know what to do with."

"I count myself lucky," John said, sitting beside her.

"You've had to face some real challenges. Let's face it; I've had it easy."

"You got a lucky break in life. I got one too."

Daria turned her eyes to John. "I got a lucky break in meeting you. I had walled myself off pretty good. You helped to free me."

"I was pretty isolated myself. We freed each other."

In silence, they turned and looked across the long reflecting pool to the east and the Washington Memorial.

John said, "I made a promise to you last year."

Daria grasped his hand. "You did."

John reached up and pulled the ribbon around his neck, which had been hidden under his shirt, over his head. He opened the simple knot and placed the ring it held onto Daria's open palm.

"Will you marry me?"

* * *

Quinn spun with glee as she and Tom walked to the front door of her house. "I'm never going to forget tonight!"

He said, "It was a very pleasant evening. I was most amused when your gown rendered Sue speechless."

Quinn stopped and rested her cheek against his shoulder. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. And, thank you."

They stopped at the door. Quinn placed her hands on Tom's cheeks and kissed him. "Everything was perfect."

"So let's have the perfect ending." Tom gave Quinn a long, soft kiss. "Good night."

Quinn smiled. "Good night."

Following a polite, formal nod, Tom turned and walked back to the limo. At the door, he turned and bowed to Quinn.

She curtseyed in return and waved as the car drove away. Sighing with contentment, she opened the door and stepped inside.

Helen was waiting about ten feet away from the door. She had a wide smile and asked, "How was your evening, Quinn?"

"It was perfect. Just perfect. I'm going to remember this for my entire life."

"I'm glad you're happy." Helen reached out and hugged Quinn.

"Me, too!" Jake said, coming up to them. "Did they take pictures?"

"Of course, Daddy," Quinn said. "We should get the proofs in about a week from Fielding and about two weeks from Lawndale."

Jake said, "I can't wait to see them."

Looking around, Quinn said, "Are Daria and John home yet?"

Helen said, "We're expecting them soon. They called from a rest stop on the interstate to let us know they were on the way."

"I hope they had a good time, too," Quinn said.

"Daria seemed to be in a surprisingly good mood," Helen said.

Quinn hurried up the stairs. "I'm going to change and come down to wait with you while I tell you about my night."

* * *

After opening the door and seeing the rest of the family watching, John said, "Um, it's not even midnight. I didn't think we were that late."

"We were out all night last year," Daria said.

"Oh, sweetie," Helen said, "you're not in trouble. We only wanted to hear about your day."

Quinn said, "Come on, Daria, spill."

After a quick look at John, Daria said, "We had a great day at the Library of Congress. Can I have one when I grow up?"

"It was really nice," John said.

"And then we had the best pizza I've ever eaten at a little place southeast of the Capital," Daria said.

"You had pizza?" Quinn said. "I should've known."

John said, "It was a killer pizza and worth every penny."

Jake said, "Do you remember the name? You know, for the next time I'm in D.C. for business."

John said, "I grabbed a takeout menu as a souvenir."

"Yes!" Jake said.

Helen gave him a glance. "Just remember your cholesterol, dear."

"I've been good," he said. "So, kids. Anything else exciting?"

"We watched the sun set from the Lincoln Memorial."

"That sounds so romantic," Helen said. "I'm sure you're going to remember that for a long time."

Daria took a breath and said, "I think I'm going to remember this more," before showing her hand with the ring. The single, small diamond glittered in a circle of six tiny emeralds.

"Oh, my," Helen said.

"Oh, my God!" Quinn said, rushing up.

"Wait. What? Oh, umﾅoh!" Jake said, suddenly becoming glassy-eyed.

Daria said, "Before you get into a panic, we aren't planning on anything soon."

"Daria, sweetie," Helen said. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but you and John are so young andﾅ"

"That's why we're waiting," John said.

Jake gulped. "Waiting? How long?"

"Until after we graduate from college," Daria said.

"Oh, thank God," Jake said.

"That's an awfully long engagement," Quinn said.

Daria said, "It is, but Mom's right. We've read the stats about persons our age marrying ﾖ and it's a little scary."

John said, "Therefore, we decided to wait. To give us more time to grow and to make sure we know what we're doing."

Helen realized she had been holding her breath and let it out. "That'sﾅvery responsible of you."

"We've learned to be that," Daria said.

Smiling, Quinn said, "Okay, Daria. You outdid me tonight, and for this once, I'll let you get away with it. Congratulations."

"Thanks, Quinn," Daria said.

John put his arm around Daria and looked at her. "Daria's worth the wait and always will be."

Not at all embarrassed to be in front of her family, Daria kissed him and said, "You're worth it, too."

Jake said, "So, you're going to get married, but not right away. Okay, I can deal with this." He looked up. "That's right, Dad. I can deal with this. Daria knows what she's doing."

"Thanks," John said. "That was a nice vote of confidence."

"You are _so_ going to be the talk of school on Monday," Quinn said. "And I don't have to say a word. That ring is going to be scoped out as soon as Daria walks onto campus."

John winked at Daria. "We can be the example that Ms. Li wanted us to be."

"I like the way you think," Daria said, giving him another kiss.

Helen stepped back and put her arm around Jake, who returned the gesture.

Quinn folded her arms and watched with pleasure. _Good luck, sis._

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.  
August - October 2011


	52. From the Last Step to the First

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the fifty-second and final John Lane story in the series. Future stand-alone stories will be written as inspiration strikes me.

Richard Lobinske

**From the Last Step to the First**

The school secretary looked up and saw Daria enter the front office. "I'm sorry, but Ms. Li stepped out to the ladies' room. She should be back shortly."

Daria said, "That's okay; I don't need to see her," as she walked past the secretary and into the principal's office. "I'll only be a minute."

"But..."

Daria picked up the microphone for the school intercom and keyed the on switch. "Attention, students of Lawndale High. This is Daria Morgendorffer. To avoid the annoyance, lost time, aggravation, and headache that will come from answering this question all day long, I'll answer it now. I. AM. NOT. PREGNANT. Thank you."

Daria walked out of the office and past the secretary. "That's all."

After Daria closed the door, the secretary pulled a pill bottle from her top desk drawer and dry-swallowed two extra-strength pain relievers. "This is going to be one of those days."

A couple of minutes later when Ms. Li returned, the secretary said, "Ms. Li, I..."

The principal looked at the few remaining days in May and the school year, rubbed her temple and said, "It's not worth it."

Ms Li continued on her way and closed the office door behind her. The secretary then took the bottle out of the drawer and examined it. "Did somebody swap my aspirin for acid?"

* * *

"Do not, under any circumstances, let my father see that ring," Jodie sternly told Daria in the hallway. "For some reason, he's convinced that Mack is about to propose to me and that's only going to feed the delusion."

Daria said, "I know it is almost unheard of these days for someone to become engaged at our age, but sheesh, this ring seems to be sucking the brains out of everyone within fifty feet. I swear that the average IQ of Lawndale High has dropped thirty points since I stepped on campus."

Mack said, "That, and causing guys within fifty feet to become unduly paranoid."

John shook his head. "It's not like we're going to get married right after graduation."

Mack said, "John, you know better than to try to get our classmates to understand details."

"What was I thinking?"

Jodie said, "Anyway, congratulations. I'm still a little worried, but holding off until after college makes me feel more comfortable about your decision."

"Thanks," Daria said. "We're still comfortable about it."

* * *

Cornered in the gym locker room, John held up his hands as he faced the crowd. "Look, guys, this was strictly between me and Daria. I cannot be held responsible for any comments, suggestions, hints, threats or ultimatums your girlfriends may give you."

One of the crowd said, "But you gave them the idea!"

"It's not like we came up with the idea," John said. "Last I checked, it has been around for a couple of thousand years."

Someone else said, "But couldn't you have waited until after graduation?"

"Yeah!" another yelled. "That would've saved us a lot of hassles."

"Hey, I wasn't thinking about any of you or your girlfriends when I asked Daria. This shouldn't be about you and your girlfriends."

"But it is and we want to know what you're going to do about it!" yet another boy said.

"I'll have to get back to you about that."

* * *

Meanwhile, Daria faced a similar crowd in the other locker room. "Look, this is something between the two of us and it shouldn't affect your relationships a bit."

Another senior said, "We just want to know how you did it."

"Yeah," a redhead said. "How did you get John to ask you?"

"I didn't 'get him' to ask me. He asked on his own, and that's the way it should be."

"Yeah, right. No guy gets the idea on his own. You gave it to him."

Daria shook her head. "No..."

"Come on," the first girl said.

"It was a mutually agreeable situation," Daria said. "And you need to remember that. If your boyfriend isn't agreeable, it's not going to work."

"We know that," a tall girl in the back said. "We're trying to find out how you got John to be agreeable."

Daria lowered her face into her hand. "My head."

* * *

Seated at his desk with arms folded and head tilted, John said, "Shouldn't we call someone or something?"

In the adjacent seat, Daria said, "Probably."

Curious, Jodie stood up from her seat and walked to the front of the room to wave her hand in front of the still figure of their science teacher, Ms. Barch. "No response."

"I think you broke her," Mack said.

"We really should call somebody," John said.

"That would be the responsible thing to do," Daria said.

"I guess it's my turn to use the intercom," Jodie said, walking to the teacher's control. Speaking into it, she said, "Could you please send the school nurse? Ms. Barch - isn't herself today."

Grinning, Kevin Thompson said, "Hey, Daria, can you do that to the rest of our teachers?"

* * *

"Mr. Lane, Ms. Morgendorffer," Mr. DeMartino said as they left history class, "congratulations on showing that somebody in your generation is capable of planning ahead and making a decision!"

"Um, thanks?" John said.

Daria said, "Thank you."

"You make me feel as if my time here hasn't been a complete and utter waste. Thank you," Mr. DeMartino said as Daria and John made a fast retreat.

By the time they reached their English class, they could see Ms. Ruiz standing at the door. John said, "Oh no, not again."

"That which doesn't kill us..." Daria said.

"I want to change that to, 'That which we don't kill,'" John said.

Smiling, Ms. Ruiz said, "Yes, I've heard. Congratulations."

John stopped. "Thanks. You're not freaking out on us."

She shrugged. "I figured you needed a little bit of rationality today."

"We appreciate it," Daria said.

"After all, you've driven the rationality out of everyone else at school today."

* * *

Driving the blue car home, Daria said, "Well, wasn't today as much fun as dental surgery without anesthesia?"

"I'll take the dental surgery," John said. "But hopefully, the worst of the stupidity is behind us."

Daria glanced at him. "I wish you hadn't done that."

"Done what?"

"Challenged 'worse.'"

* * *

After a full day of being the center of attention, the complete absence of that attention the next day at school was unsettling for John and Daria. Finally, they tracked down Jodie and Mack.

Daria said, "Okay, what's up? The only reason that we're no longer the object of attention is that something else has come up to take it away. Not that we're really complaining, but if we've learned anything at Lawndale High, forewarned is forearmed."

"You haven't heard?" Jodie said.

"No, that's why we're asking."

"Oh," Mack said. "Rumor has it that Ms. Barch cornered Mr. O'Neill last night and -"

"And what?" John said. "Or is it too terrible to imagine?"

"Let's put it this way. You two motivated her."

"Oh, no," John said. "Please don't tell me -"

Jodie and Mack nodded.

John said, "It is something too terrible to imagine."

Daria said, "After what he tried to accuse Quinn of last summer, I'm not shedding any tears over his fate. And it has taken the attention away from us."

John nodded. "Now, all we have to do is to get through the last week of class and finals."

"Gladly, and then we're out of here," Daria said.

* * *

Despite the coffee he had just finished, John yawned as he stood up from the breakfast table. "Why don't they start finals later in the day so that we can catch up on the sleep we missed studying last night?"

Still seated, Daria said, "Because you would use that as an excuse to stay up later and thus, continue to be sleep-deprived."

John playfully growled. "Damn logic."

"I'm preparing for college."

"Well, so am I. How else can I pull off a successful all-nighter?"

"I don't think those terms go together."

"I look forward to finding out if they do."

Helen entered the kitchen and walked over to the coffee machine to pour a cup. "How does your last day of high school feel?"

John snickered when Daria said, "That's another phase of my life shot to hell."

"Daria," Helen sighed.

"And I'm looking forward to being shot out of the cannon to my next phase of life."

Helen cracked a smile. "I really wish I'd learned to appreciate your sense of humor earlier. It would've saved me a lot of grief."

Daria smirked back. "On both sides."

Helen said, "What about you, John?"

He said, "I haven't really thought about it much. I've been too busy worrying about our history and science finals today. But, assuming I pass them, I think I'm going to feel relieved. Very relieved."

"Good luck," Helen said. "I hope everything goes well."

* * *

Nearing the school entrance, John said, "It seems like we should have something significant and profound to say as we walk through those doors."

"'Once more unto the breach' doesnﾒt really feel appropriate," Daria said.

"Hmm. Neither does 'That's one small step for a man.'"

"'Abandon all hope' fits better the first time you enter, not the last."

A passing student suddenly farted, and then looked nervously around to see if anyone had noticed before hurrying inside.

Daria nodded and said, "I can't think of anything more appropriate."

"Works for me," John said as they walked through the doors.

* * *

As he placed his test on the teacher's desk, John felt a great sense of relief. Out of curiosity, he quietly asked, "Mr. DeMartino. Why are your finals always multiple choice?"

Mr. DeMartino said, "Because they are faster to grade than fill in the blank or essay. You're not the only one who wants to get out of here at the end of the school year."

John nodded and said, "I can see your point."

After he returned to his desk, John let his mind drift during the remaining minutes of class while Daria quietly read. The remaining students turned in their completed tests and then sat and waited with increasing anticipation.

When the final bell rang, students launched from their desks in a great rush to vacate the building.

Daria watched and said, "I can wait for the stampede to be over."

"Sure," John said.

After a couple of minutes, the sound in the corridor died down. Mr. DeMartino looked at the door and said, "It may be safe to venture out now."

"I think we can risk it," Daria said.

When they reached the door, Daria gave Mr. DeMartino a friendly nod, who then smiled and nodded in return.

The corridor looked to be well on its way to being a post-apocalypse movie set. Random locker doors hung open. Loose papers lay scattered around overflowing trash cans while here and there were odd bits of cloth or other unidentifiable objects.

"And so it ends," John said.

"Well, we have one more thing to do," Daria said.

"Oh, yeah. Onward to the front office."

After a short walk through the abandoned hallways, they arrived at the main office and entered. The receptionist smiled and said, "Daria Morgendorffer and John Lane. Your caps and gowns are ready for pickup. Just sign here, please."

After each had signed, the receptionist handed over two blue, shrink-wrapped bundles. "Here you go."

After each accepted their labeled sets, Daria and John left the office and walked toward the student parking lot. Daria rolled it in her hands. "Prepackaged graduation regalia. How...Lawndale High."

John said, "Sanitary sealed for your protection."

Daria glanced at him. "Okay, there is something to be said for single-use instead of rental."

"That is Lawndale High."

* * *

Nearing the front door of the Landon residence, Daria said, "Remind me why we're doing this again?"

"Giving Jodie and Mack a break after we dodged the prom and left them alone to deal with Kevin and Brittany."

"Damn conscience."

"Yeah, it can be a pain in the ass."

John rang the doorbell. "Maybe we'll be lucky and nobody is home."

Jodie opened the door. "Daria, John. I can't tell you how glad I am to see you."

Daria said, "Kevin and Brittany here already?"

Jodie sighed. "Kevin already asked my dad, 'Where's the keg?'"

"That's Kevin," John said.

"Everything is going on around the back porch again," Jodie said while leading them through the house.

"Less collateral damage that way," Daria said.

"Exactly," was Jodie's reply.

Lawndale students were spread out on and around the large, wood deck attached to the back of the house. Daria looked around and said, "Yep, looks like a party."

"There is a god." They turned to find Mack behind them. He said, "I know how much you hate to mingle, so if you want to stay here, I'm good with that."

John said, "You want us to be human shields."

"Do you blame us?"

"Keep us supplied with chips and drinks and you have yourself a deal," Daria said.

Jodie and Mack said, "Deal."

* * *

Quinn found her sister seated at a table on the deck and said, "Daria."

She said, "Quinn."

"Oh, I guess I shouldn't say too much. You're actually here."

"Thank you," Daria said. "You know, I might try to attend more parties like this when I go away to college."

"Really?"

"Sure. The cheap entertainment and blackmail material you get at a high school party is priceless. I can't wait to see what's in store when you throw more alcohol into the mix."

Quinn shook her head. "Daria."

"I am who I am."

"There you are," Tom said, coming up and putting his arm around Quinn. "Oh, hi Daria."

"Hi, Tom," Daria said.

"Where's John?" Quinn asked.

"Bathroom. Human kidneys can only take so much Ultra Cola."

"Ah."

Daria said, "Tom, I must say that you really must like Quinn if you're willing to put up with Lawndale High students."

Tom shrugged. "I don't know. Fielding students are just as capable of getting stupid, only they have more money to spend on doing it and better lawyers to get them out of trouble afterward. But now, we can escape and head off to college, leaving all this behind."

Quinn frowned a little. Not noticing, Daria said, "So high school sucks all over."

"I don't know about sucks, but stupidity is pretty universal."

John returned and, hearing that, said, "And this is the home of universal stupidity."

"Hey, John," Tom said. "How are you?"

"Not bad. You?"

"Okay. I think I'm ready for graduation to be over."

"You're not the only one," John said. "I keep expecting to wake up and find out it's only the second day of ninth grade."

"Now that's a nightmare."

"Tell me about it."

From somewhere in the yard, Stacy called, "Quinn!"

"Gotta go," Quinn said. "See you later."

"Later," Daria said.

Tom gave Daria and John a quick salute and said, "Good luck tomorrow."

"You too," John said in return.

* * *

After saying goodnight to Jodie and Mack, Daria and John were glad to get out to their car. "The last high school party we'll ever have to endure."

John gave a deadpan, "Hip, hip, hooray."

"Daria! John!" Kevin waved at them from his Jeep. "Were you at the party?"

"Yes, Kevin," Daria said.

John said, "Wait a minute. Where were you?"

"Hi!" Brittany said, leaning over Kevin to wave at them.

"Never mind," John said.

Brittany said, "Good night! See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Brittany," Daria said. "We'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

Waiting for them at home, Helen said, "Did you have a fun time?"

"As much fun as to be expected," Daria said.

"Daria..."

"There was plenty of live entertainment."

"Oh, that was nice. What about you, John?"

"The same. We have a big day tomorrow, so we're going to turn in."

"Good night, kids. Sleep well," Helen said. After the two had gone up stairs, Helen sat on the sofa and, with a wry smile, shook her head. "Live entertainment."

* * *

"Oh, the hell with it," John said as he threw the sheet aside and sat up on the edge of the bed. "I'm awake. Dammit."

Using only a bedside lamp for light, he pulled on a pair of running shorts, shirt and shoes. "I might as well get a good run out of waking up this freaking early."

The house was dark and quiet as he made his way downstairs and out of the door. Outside, there were a couple of clouds that moved in front of the stars that shone through the glow of streetlamps illuminating the roads. Glad to avoid the daytime heat, John started off down the sidewalk at a brisk jog.

The thoughts that woke him up came back to his mind. _Graduation. I made it. Wow. Now we have to move on to real life. At least we have the summer before then. Summer. What are we going to do until we leave for Boston? Helen isn't going to let us sit around on our asses, no matter how much we'd like to. We need a plan._

* * *

Unfortunately, no plan had formed by the time John arrived home. So, he walked around and plopped down at the backyard picnic table. _Watching the sunrise may not help, but it can't hurt_.

Inside, Jake rummaged in the refrigerator looking for a snack. When he emerged with a covered bowl and closed the door, he noticed John in the back yard. "Hmm."

Jake opened the sliding glass door and said, "John?"

He turned and said, "Oh. Hey, Jake. What are you doing up?"

"Looking for a snack. What about you?"

"Thinking."

"Be right back," Jake said. After a quick trip to grab an extra spoon, he went back out and joined John. He opened the bowl and offered the teen a spoon. "Leftover chili?"

John took the spoon. "I can eat."

After a few mouthfuls, Jake said, "What are you thinking about?"

"Graduation. Life. What the hell I'm going to do with it?"

Jake nodded. "I'm still asking myself that. Well, not the graduation part."

John chuckled. "Yeah, you got that out of the way a few years ago."

Jake grumbled, "Damn Class A uniforms..."

"I suppose that sucks more than a poorly fitting bag over your body and a mason's implement on your head."

Jake laughed.

John said, "I don't suppose you have any grand advice you want to give me."

"Umﾅ"

After a quick burp, John said, "Oops, excuse me."

Jake's eyes brightened and he smiled. "Always make sure you take the time to scratch and belch."

"You know, I think that's advice I can live with."

* * *

Going into the kitchen, Daria didn't even try to stifle her yawn before saying, "Mom, what are you looking at?"

Seated at the table and drinking coffee while she looked out of the glass doors, Helen nodded outside and said, "Your father and John are bonding over a guy's breakfast."

Daria filled a mug and joined her mother. Outside, John and Jake were freely talking while alternately digging spoonfuls of chili from the bowl. "Is that what I think it is?"

Helen nodded.

Daria said, "Oh, boy."

"If we're lucky, there will be a strong breeze this afternoon to - dissipate things quickly."

"We can only hope."

* * *

Noticing John squirm as they sat through Jodie's valedictorian speech, Daria whispered, "Are you okay?"

"Just a little - pressure," he whispered back.

Daria smirked and looked at the crowd seated in the football stands. Surrounded by a ring of empty seats, Jake was easy to spot. Helen and Quinn sat to his left and Trent lounged on his right. Quinn was trying to hide under a baseball cap, Helen had her "keep calm" face locked in place and Trent occasionally glanced at Jake with a knowing look. _Guys._

At the podium, Jodie concluded her speech. "...for today we leave the days of our youth behind and begin our journey into adulthood. Many years from now, I'm sure we will look back on our days at Lawndale High with a great fondness, for what once was, and will never be again."

Daria whispered, "We can only hope for the last part."

Jodie said, "Thank you," and exited the stage, glad to have completed her final responsible act at Lawndale High. The clapping for Jodie subsided as she stepped down and Ms. Li stepped up to the podium.

Ms. Li cleared her throat and said, "Thank you, Jodie Landon, valedictorian of the graduating class of Laaawndale High. And remember, parents, your child doesn't have to be a current student for us to accept your generous donations. And now, people, and now, awards time! We'll do the sports and other good prizes after I get these academic jobbies out of the way. Now as you know at Lawndale High, we reward students for both their scholarship and contribution to student life. To that end, we do everything we can to engage each and every one of our students to make a well-rounded individual, no matter how deficient they may start. And so, I give you the winner of this year's Lawndale High School Dian Fossey Award for dazzling academic achievement, while overcoming her near-total misanthropy, Ms. Daria Morgendorffer!"

John nudged Daria. "That's you."

Half-dazed, Daria walked up to the podium and accepted a gold-toned statue from the principal. Facing her classmates, she said, "Um...Thank you. As you know, I'd much rather write than talk, and Iﾒm not very good at lying. So let me just say that, if it weren't for a few lucky breaks along the way, high school would've been completely forgettable. However, if you're lucky enough to have a family that cares and someone that loves you; you might remember a few things about it. Otherwise, my advice is: Stand firm for what you believe in, until and unless logic and experience prove you wrong. Remember, when the emperor looks naked, the emperor is naked. The truth and a lie are not sort of the same thing, and thereﾒs no aspect, no facet, no moment of life, that can't be improved with pizza. Thank you."

The audience clapped as Daria walked back to her seat. She noticed the other students leaning away from John. As she sat down, carefully breathing through her mouth, she whispered, "Pressure got to you?"

"Yeah."

* * *

John left Daria to deal with Jake and Helen's excitement over the award and he found Trent. "Hey."

"Hey, Johnny."

"Thanks for coming."

"Figured someone should be here; nobody was here for mine."

"Trent, you weren't here for your graduation."

"Oh, yeah. I think we had a gig that night."

"Or was it practice?"

"One of them." Trent smiled. "I see Daria got an award. That was pretty cool."

"I think she was rather surprised."

"Too bad you didn't get anything."

"No awards for art around there. But look out for my graduation from BFAC."

"I'll be there."

John smiled. "I'm sure you will. Thanks, Trent."

Trent put his arm around John's shoulder. "Any time."

* * *

Driving home, John said, "You had the perfect chance to bash Ms. Li's brains in with that statue and you passed it up."

In the passenger seat, Daria said, "I know, and I plead temporary insanity."

"Insanity plea accepted, but what about the speech?"

"Still insane."

"Hmm."

"You didn't let things go in the middle of my speech, did you?"

"Me? No."

"Good."

"I cut loose when you were about halfway to the stage. I thought I'd try to get as much dispersal time as possible before you returned."

"Now that's true love."

"I do my best."

Daria said, "Just don't do it in the car."

"I won't."

"Or when we get pizza."

"Promise."

"Good."

* * *

Daria and John looked around the crowded pizza place for a seat. "Hey, there's Quinn and Tom," John said, pointing to a booth. "And it looks like the only space free."

"Let's see if they'll mind company," Daria said.

Quinn saw them first and waved them over. "Come on."

After a round of greetings, Tom said, "I heard you received an award. Congratulations."

"To say it was a surprise is an understatement," Daria said. "But thanks."

"Any excitement at your ceremony?" John asked.

That caused Tom to snort. "Excitement is strictly forbidden at all Fielding Preparatory Academy graduation functions. There are traditions to be honored and protocols to be followed. To the letter."

"I thought Lawndale was bad," Daria said.

"It's all part of the total package at Fielding," Tom said. "That, and the subliminal programming to make sure you send your kids to Fielding."

"Oooh," John said. "Long-term planning."

"How do you think old money keeps old money?" Tom said. "That an arranged marriages."

"Speaking of money," Quinn said, ignoring his last comment. "I'm going to help Tom at his dad's office this summer. Mom's not going to find me a summer activity this year."

"Good thinking," Daria said.

"You don't know how dull filing earnings reports can be," Tom said.

"Nothing is worse than what my mother can find for summer activities," Daria said.

"And we still need to come up with something," John said. "I'm open to ideas."

Tom said, "I might have something."

Daria said, "Oh?"

"Mom mentioned that the Lawndale Art Museum is looking for some part-time docents. You two already are on good terms with the board, so it's probably worth a shot."

"I wouldn't mind having a chance to sell another painting or two before leaving for college."

"And I'm sure it's better than doing something like working as a lifeguard at the public pool," Daria said.

"I'll tell Mom to expect you."

* * *

"You're hired," Mr. Loudon, the chairman of the museum board, said. He stepped around his desk and first shook Daria's and then John's hand. "Congratulations."

John said, "Wow."

Mr. Loudon said, "It's rare that we have young people interested in working here. I'm not going to let the opportunity pass me by."

"Thanks," Daria said.

Mr. Loudon winked. "Especially two young people who have a clue about art."

* * *

Later at the pizza place, they split a celebratory pizza and drinks. John said, "That really was easy."

"What do you expect," Daria said, "after Mrs. Sloane put in a good word for us."

John shrugged. "A lot of the art world is about personal contacts and, to be honest, I'm hoping to make a few working here."

"I'm a little uncomfortable with getting the job because Mrs. Sloane likes Quinn."

"Don't forget that we made a good impression on Mr. Loudon and the Hamptons at my showing last year during their ball. Enough of an impression for them to pay for my work and cover a big chunk of my first year's tuition at BFAC."

"That explains you, but what about me?"

John smirked. "They hired you for your looks."

Daria crumpled a napkin and threw it at John. "Smartass."

* * *

Busy with trying a new recipe, Helen still stopped and said, "Working at the art museum? That's wonderful. I'm so proud of you."

"We thought you should know," Daria said.

John said, "Do you need any help with dinner?"

"Thanks for asking, but I have this under control," Helen said. "It should be ready in about half an hour."

"Cool, then," John replied.

Daria said, "See you then, Mom," as she and John left the kitchen.

Helen watched them leave and smiled to herself. "All three of them found something to do for the summer without any prodding. After all these years, I think I can call this a success."

* * *

Helen sat on the sofa, sorting through briefs and wondering how much jail time she would serve if she strangled each one of her current clients. _If it wasn't for my children..._

Daria cautiously approached and said, "Good, you're sitting down. I need to ask for something."

Also cautious, Helen said, "Yes, Daria, what do you need?"

"Money to go buy some, uh, appropriate work clothes for the museum."

Helen relaxed and smiled. "I have it on good authority that it can be arranged. What about John?"

Daria nodded.

"Get the gold card out of my purse. I'll have Jake give John his card."

Daria walked around the table to the purse and picked up the card from the wallet inside. "Thanks."

"I also have it on good authority that there will be no objection if you pick up a few things for college."

"Mom, are you trying to be a bad influence on me?"

Helen said, "The thought never crossed my mind."

Amused, Daria sat down on the sofa next to Helen. "Good comeback. Almost as if you've been practicing for a while."

"It's useful for my job."

Daria raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, I'll let you in on a little secret. If you think other students don't understand a confident, intelligent girl these days, imagine what it was like for one back in the Sixties."

"Voice of experience?"

"Who do you think Amy learned it from?"

"That explains a few things."

"Amy uses it as an all-purpose tool while I prefer it for more precision work."

"I suppose that puts me somewhere in between."

Helen pulled Daria into a hug. "You're going to find your own way."

Hugging back, Daria said, "Oh, God. We've been bonding, haven't we?"

"Yes, and that was me being a bad influence."

* * *

At the mall the following morning, Daria stopped just inside the entrance of Cashman's and said, "Oh, great."

"What?" John asked.

"Look at who is now working in the ladies wear section."

"It looks like Quinn's friend Stacy."

"Exactly."

"Could be..."

"Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it."

John said, "Order received and understood."

"The faster we do this, the faster we can escape and get pizza."

"Fast it is."

Daria leading the way, they continued into the store. When they reached Stacy, she nervously said, "Good morning and welcome to Cashman's. How can I help you?"

After a moment, Stacy recognized them and said, "Daria? Hi."

"Hi, Stacy," Daria said.

"Wow, you're my first customer. I just started today."

"We're here for a similar reason. John and I are starting summer jobs and need a week's worth of appropriate clothes," Daria said.

"Oh, sure. Right over here," Stacy said, directing Daria over to a group of skirt and blouse combinations.

Following, John said, "I'm surprised that you're not working over in the teen fashion section."

"The manager said it would be easier for me to start here. Business women are more reasonable than teenage girls," Stacy said and then giggled. "She's right. We can be such little bitches at times."

"Take care of me with a minimum of fuss and I promise to be completely reasonable."

Stacy unrolled a tape measure. "First, we need to make sure we get you the right size."

Daria said, "And when we're done, I'm going to need a few things for college."

Stacy said, "I can help you with that, too."

John said, "You seem to have this under control, so I guess I should wander over to the men's wear and find something."

"Go ahead and leave me," Daria said.

"I think you can handle it," John said with a nod. "I'll be back in a bit."

* * *

Placing a stack of dress pants and shirts on the counter, the young salesman said, "You said that you would be working at the art museum, correct?"

"Yes," John said.

"Follow me," the salesman said. "I think I have just the selection of ties for you."

"Oh?" John said, dreading what he imagined the available options to be.

"We've started carrying a selection licensed by the New York City Museum of Art."

"Oh?" John said, now with his curiosity raised.

They reached a display case with a colorful selection of art print ties. "Right here."

John recognized each design drawn from a masterpiece. "Cool."

"I was hoping you would agree. Now, are there any in particular you would like to see?"

"Yes."

"Which ones?"

"All of them."

* * *

Stacy was printing up the receipt for Daria when John returned. Daria looked at the size of the bags in his hands and said, "Are you all right?"

John said, "I got a little carried away."

"A little?"

John pulled out one tie and said, "I'm supporting the arts."

Stacy handed Daria the receipt and a pen. "Sign here, please."

"Oh, yeah," Daria said before signing. "All done."

Stacy gave them a big smile. "Thank you for shopping at Cashman's." She then bounced around the counter and hugged Daria. "And thank you for buying from me!"

Daria looked at John. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "You have a gift."

* * *

After showing John and Daria around the museum and giving them their basic training, Kay Sloane said, "Do you think you're ready?"

John said, "Stand around and talk about art. I think I can handle that."

"I'll make sure his enthusiasm doesn't get in the way," Daria said.

"Good, because we need to throw you into the fray immediately," Kay said.

"That was fast," Daria said.

"I wasn't exaggerating when I said we really needed help. Thank you so very much for applying."

John said, "Well then, let's get out there and educate the unwashed masses about art."

"I think most of them are washed," Daria said. "But let's go."

"Have a good day, kids," Kay said. "And keep up the good attitude."

Walking out into the main gallery, Daria said to John, "As long as the public keeps up its good attitude."

He said, "Like that's going to happen."

"Optimist."

"Yep, I'm a 'drank half the glass' kind of guy."

"As long as you leave the other half for me," Daria said as she walked over to her station on the other side of the gallery.

He watched and appreciated how Daria looked in the professional blouse and skirt that she wore. _When she decides to look good..._

When Daria reached her station, she turned and looked at John in his dress shirt, tie and slacks. _I have to admit that he cleans up pretty well._

* * *

Stopping just before the door leading to the gift shop, John told the small tour group, "Thank you and I hope you enjoyed your visit to the Lawndale Art Museum."

Several of the visitors gave him a polite, "Thank you," as they walked past.

Once all of them were through, he thought, _And buy stuff; it helps to cover my salary._

"I hope you explain art better than you make it," a voice said behind him.

John turned to see a middle-aged man he first met at the Starry Night Ball the previous year. He also remembered the man's dislike for anything resembling modern art. "Hello, Mr. Vilano. The last tour group seemed pleased with me."

Mr. Vilano nodded. "I hope so. Reputation is very important to the Lawndale Art Museum."

Wary of where this was leading, John said, "It has a very good reputation; that's why I'm excited to work here."

"Good," Mr. Vilano said before turning and striding away.

"That was pleasant," John said. "So pleasant, I hope he doesn't make it a daily occurrence."

A few moments later, Daria walked over. "What was that about?" she asked.

"I think Mr. Vilano still isn't happy about the rest of the board voting to buy my art last fall."

"Grudge?"

"Big time."

"There always has to be something."

John nodded. "Yep."

* * *

One at a time, Quinn picked up a report from a pile on a nearby table, flipped through the drawer of a filing cabinet to find the proper folder and dropped the report into its proper place. At the other end of the table, Tom was doing the same thing.

Quinn said, "When your father said we'd be filing reports, he wasn't kidding."

"He thinks of it as character building," Tom said. "By the end of the day, I should hope that we will be some kind of character."

Quinn laughed. "Is this really what we're going to do all summer?"

"No, this is just the cold water shock. After this, we get to participate in all the exciting day to day activity of the business world."

"Why doesn't that sound as exciting as it could be?"

"We're talking about my dad. He does nothing exciting and he doesn't allow anything exciting to happen in his office."

Quinn gulped.

Tom smirked. "Watch the office staff when Dad goes out of town. It never ceases to provide great amusement."

* * *

"Working Saturdays is the one real down side of this job," John said to Daria while they waited for new visitors to arrive at the museum. "It really makes me wonder how Trent took up a profession that always works weekends."

"Some things we may never know." Hearing voices near the entrance, Daria said, "We have company."

A woman's voice reached them just before the guests were visible, "Eric!"

"That's not good," John said as he saw Helen's boss Eric and his wife Harriet enter the gallery. Eric was clearly unsteady on his feet while Harriet was a mix of annoyance and mortification.

Daria said, "John, he's going to run into something if we don't do something."

"It looks like 'guided tour' is going to be literal today." John stepped forward and said, "Good afternoon and welcome to the Lawndale Art Museum. My name is John and I will be your guide for today."

Harriet said, "You're Helen's adopted son. Oh, and I see Daria is here too. Isn't that wonderful, Eric?"

Eric belched. "Sure, honey."

John nodded for Daria to take the lead while he positioned himself to prevent Eric from veering into any exposed artwork while hoping that Harriet would be able to do the same on the other side.

In the lead, Daria said, "Our first experience will be the Jenner Gallery, specializing in Nineteenth Century American art."

John had to quickly step toward Eric and nudge him away from an urn on a pedestal near the gallery entrance. _This is going to be a long tour._

* * *

By the time they reached the Dryden Galley of Modern Art and the final one on the tour, John was holding Eric up while Harriet attempted to steer.

Daria stopped and said, "Here we have _Spectral Spectrum Number 3_ by my companion docent, John Lane."

Harriet said, "You have art in here? That's amazing."

John said, "Amazing good luck."

"Luck is what we make. Sometimes good," Harriet said, and then glanced at her husband, adding, "and sometimes bad."

John grunted as Eric shifted more weight onto him.

"Oh dear," Harriet said. "I really should get him out of here."

"Right this way," Daria said. "Straight through the gift shop."

Harriet groaned. "How am I going to get him through there without breaking half the inventory?"

"We'll help. We've gotten him this far, haven't we?"

"Thank you, young man," Harriet said.

They moved carefully and deliberately past the fragile bric-a-brac while Eric stared at random shiny objects.

John, Daria and Harriet sighed with relief when they left the building. Harriet said, "Can I impose upon you to help me across the street to our car?"

"We're in this far," John said.

Daria said, "So we might as well finish the job."

Fortunately, the side street traffic was light and they reached the car without incident. After they plopped Eric into the passenger seat, Harriet said, "Eric can be so embarrassing at times. I don't know how to thank you."

Off-hand, Daria said, "Talk him into making my mom a full partner."

Harriet smiled and said, "I will let the Museum management know just how wonderful you two have been."

John said, "Thanks, and have a good day."

"I doubt that," Harriet said. "But I'll do my best."

Daria and John watched the car drive away and then walked back to the museum. Daria said, "I used to wonder how Mom put up with Eric. Now, I wonder how Mrs. Schrecter puts up with him."

Mr. Vilano was waiting at the door. "Where have you been? You're supposed to be on duty."

John said, "We were helping some guests out to their car."

Mr. Vilano glared. "Oh?"

"We were taught to go above and beyond the call of duty when it comes to customer service," Daria said.

Mr. Vilano grumbled, "The next time you find a drunk in the gallery, you will have security escort him out. Am I clear?"

John said, "Yes."

"Good. Now, get out of here."

Once out to the car, John said, "I'm getting the feeling that he's gunning for us. Well, me, with you as collateral damage."

Daria nodded. "The best way to get back at him is to not give him anything to use against us."

* * *

Sharing a pizza with John, Daria looked around the familiar restaurant and said, "As odd as it sounds coming from me, I'm going to miss this place when we go to Boston."

"It kind of grows on you," John said. "Hey, I'm sure we'll find a good pizza place somewhere around Raft or BFAC."

"Good pizza, as opposed to this place?" Daria said with a smirk.

"I've heard rumors that there are places in Boston that use real ovens instead of microwaves."

"Wow, I'm impressed."

"I've been investigating."

"What else have you learned?"

"That we shouldn't want for pizza. I've even mapped out every place I could find between Raft and BFAC."

"Okay, now I'm impressed, but curious why you haven't mentioned this before."

"Eh, it was going to be a surprise."

"I see. Well, I'm surprised now; does that count?"

"Close enough," John said.

Across the room, Brittany and Kevin were seated at another booth. Any casual observer could see that something was going on and that was confirmed when Brittany yelled, "What!"

Everyone in the room turned to look at the couple. At a couple of booths, teens were starting to take bets on who said what or any other of the myriad reasons that Kevin and Brittany had argued in the past.

John said, "That doesn't sound good."

Looking panicked, Kevin motioned with his hands for Brittany to sit down. "Babe..."

"You just broke up with me, so you can't call me 'babe' anymore!"

"I meant when I leave for training camp next week," Kevin said.

"Then you should've waited until next week."

"Babe..."

"Don't call me babe!"

"But..."

"I'm not your babe!"

"Not even..."

"No!" Brittany spun around and marched to the door. "I'm glad that I'm leaving for cheerleader camp in two weeks, so there."

Kevin sighed and said, "Aw, man."

"I never expected them to stay together, but, it's still kind of depressing," John said.

Daria said, "You remember how many times they've broken up before, don't you?"

"Yeah, but this seemed different. Permanent."

"Maybe."

"I feel a little responsible."

"How?"

"If we hadn't tutored them, they probably wouldn't be graduating and going off to different colleges."

"Maybe, and maybe they will be better off than if they had stayed together here as high school dropouts."

"I hope so."

Daria said, "You know, me too. They're not bad people. They grew up under different expectations. They - they didn't have the support we had."

"Gee, what happened to that cynical girl I fell in love with?"

"She fell in love with you. Smartass."

* * *

Quinn leaned out of the door to the filing room and watched the casually-dressed staff of the office go about their business, smiling and occasionally joking. She said, "You call this cutting loose when your dad's out of town?"

Joining her, Tom said, "For them, it's cutting loose and when you know them, fairly amusing."

"Now that you mention it, Mr. Tollens in a Hawaiian shirt is rather amusing, in a complete fashion disaster sort of way."

"You take what you can get. Oh, look at Ms. Nettler zeroing in on that intern."

"Eww, that's kind of creepy."

"You've never watched _The Graduate_, have you?"

"No, I haven't."

"We're going to have to correct that."

"Am I going to like it?"

"It stars Dustin Hoffman back when he was young."

"Okay, I'll give it a try."

"Great."

Quinn shuddered. "Can we go back to filing? Mrs. Arbuckle just walked by wearing a...eww, I don't even want to think about it."

Tom blinked. "And I wish I hadn't seen it. Filing sounds like a good idea."

* * *

Nearing the end of the day, John thought it felt good to sit down on one of the stools provided for the docents near the museum entrance. An afternoon of keeping up with a summer day camp class had almost worn out both him and Daria.

Daria looked at the clock over the ticket counter. "Fifteen minutes," she said.

"Wonderful. I'm beat," John said.

"You're the runner. How do you think I feel?"

"Rub your feet when we get home?"

"You're on, mister. Here's hoping we don't have any last minute visitors."

John sighed. "I wish you hadn't said that."

"Superstitious?" Daria said.

The door opened and a woman entered. John looked up and said, "Mom?"

Amanda Lane smiled and said, "John, I told you I would visit."

John glanced again at the clock. "You did. Glad you could make it."

Daria also looked at the clock before saying, "Hi, Mrs. Lane."

"Daria, how wonderful. I hope I'm not running too late."

John said, "I think we can fit you in."

"Oh, thank you."

Leading the way, John said, "Mom, our first stop will be the Jenner Gallery of Nineteenth Century American art."

"Oh, I remember when they put this one in," Amanda said.

"You do?" Daria asked.

"Oh, of course. Vincent and I were here when the museum opened."

Daria said, "That's kind of neat."

"It was nineteen years ago." Dreamy, Amanda said, "It was such a pleasant June day and John, your father was so romantic."

John thought, _Mom, please don't go into details. Especially with Daria here._

Strolling along and smiling, Amanda looked around and said, "I guess that's why you're so artistic. I wonder if they still have thatﾅ"

John quickly said, "Moving along to the next gallery, we have the transition to the twentieth century and the Arts and Crafts movement."

Following, Daria said under her breath, "Hmm, that explains a few things."

* * *

John used his key to unlock the exit door of the museum. "I'm sorry the gift shop is closed."

Amanda said, "That's okay. I came to see you and the museum."

"Thanks, Mom."

"And your art."

Daria said, "I think we're all proud of him for that."

"How long are you in town?" John asked.

"Not long; you know how it is."

"Do you have time for dinner?"

Amanda smiled. "I'd like that."

"Preference?"

"How about Chinese?"

Daria said, "As long as we don't find any wormholes out back."

"Huh?" Amanda said.

John laughed. "It's a long story. No, more like a short story. Written one, that is."

"We have to finish up here. Can we meet you?" Daria said.

"I'll be waiting," Amanda said. "Bye, for now."

"Bye, Mom," John said. "We'll see you there."

On their way back to the staff office, they heard Mr. Vilano say, "I hope you're not trying to squeeze in some unauthorized overtime."

Daria said, "We were making sure that a guest had an enjoyable visit."

"We closed almost half an hour ago."

"Would you want us to rush a guest out?"

He grumbled. "No."

John said, "We'll sign out at our scheduled time, okay?"

"That will be acceptable."

John nodded. "In that case, please excuse us."

After they walked away, Mr. Vilano quietly said, "They'd better not bring that bitch around here again or I will find a way to get rid of them."

Once they were in the tiny office, John said, "What an ass."

Daria said, "I wonder what kind of dirt he has on the rest of the board."

"It must be something good for them to keep putting up with him."

"Or he could have donated a lot of money," Daria said.

"Money talks."

"And sometimes, it says dumb things."

* * *

Sipping her green tea while seated across the restaurant booth from Daria and John, Amanda said, "Is that horrible Mr. Vilano still on the museum board?"

John said, "You know him?"

"His parents helped start the museum. They were such nice people."

"That aspect didn't get passed down," Daria said.

"I miss them."

John said, "What's his bug about modern art?"

Amanda shrugged. "I never knew. He was always like that."

"Is he the reason that County Museum of Modern Art is a separate institution?" John asked.

Amanda smiled. "They needed some place to put the donated Dali."

"I'd heard that the Dali was part of the original collection," John said.

"He was so mad at his parents for doing that."

Daria said, "Sounds like he has a few personal issues."

Amanda smiled again. "Sometimes, I think he needs to get laid."

* * *

Relaxed, Angier Sloane stood in the doorway to the filing room while Tom and Quinn finished up inside. He said, "I'm very pleased with your work. Thank you, Quinn."

Appreciating the rare compliment, Quinn said, "Thanks, Mr. Sloane."

"If you're not otherwise occupied next summer, you are welcome to return here."

Impressed again, Quinn said, "That's a kind offer."

Angier smiled. "Kindness has nothing to do with it. I appreciate a good worker. You are a very organized young woman." He glanced at Tom. "You don't always see that in a young person these days."

"When you lead a busy life, you have to keep things in order or you'll never find just the right shoes to wear."

Angier nodded. "It serves you well. Enjoy the rest of your summer, Quinn. I hope we will see you when we get back from the Cove."

"I hope to see you, too."

After Angier left, Quinn sighed. "Do you have to go to the Cove for the whole rest of the summer?"

"Family obligation. At least this will be the last time. After I start college, I'll be excused to investigate other things. It's what all Sloanes are expected to do."

"I'm going to miss you, Tom."

"The feeling is mutual, Quinn. At least you'll be around your friends here in Lawndale. The most exciting thing I can look forward to is Aunt Mildred's lemonade."

"Is it that good?"

"No, not really. That's why I don't have that much to look forward to."

Frowning, Quinn said, "And when you get back, we'll only have a couple of days before you leave for Bromwell."

"We'll have to make the most of our time."

"It's going to be weird. You know, not being around each other."

"We'll make it work."

"I hope so."

"You're nervous."

"Yeah. You're going off to a whole new place to meet whole new people and I'll be stuck here in Lawndale. And what about after that? You know my grades will never get me into Bromwell."

"There are plenty of other good schools within a couple of hours' driving time."

"You seem pretty confident."

"It's in the Sloane genetics."

"Yeah, right."

"Quinn, I just have a feeling. Does that make sense?"

"In a way, yes," Quinn replied, but with a hint of worry.

* * *

While John was leading a group of guests through the galleries, Daria saw Jodie enter the museum. "Hi, Jodie," she said.

Quietly, Jodie said, "Hi."

"You're uncharacteristically quiet," Daria said.

"Mack and I broke up."

"What? What happened?"

Jodie shrugged. "I'm going to Turner; he's going to Vance."

"That can't be the only reason."

"No, just the deciding reason. Listen, Daria. Mack's a nice guy. A really nice guy, but we weren't working out. We've been together for years because we've been expected to be together. It was time we faced reality instead of everyone's expectations."

"Oh. Sorry."

"That's not to say I like it. We were together for a long time." Jodie gave a short laugh. "We were together for longer than my cousin's marriage."

Daria briefly thought of her cousin, Erin. "I have a cousin like that, too. It's...it makes you think."

Jodie said, "You doing tours?"

"Yes."

"I came here to be distracted. Why don't we get started?"

"We can get started," Daria replied.

* * *

Driving home that afternoon, John said, "Mack and Jodie broke up. Man, that sucks."

Daria said, "After listening to Jodie, I have to agree that they did the right thing."

"Yeah, but it still sucks, especially knowing how we contributed."

"They knew that they didn't have anything like what we have."

"I'm still not used to being a good example."

"How do you think I feel?" Daria said. "Until I met you, I always figured I'd end up as some kind of crazy cat lady living in a house stacked floor to ceiling with books, magazines and old newspapers."

"I guess we were lucky?"

Daria reached over and grasped John's hand. "I normally don't trust luck, but this time, I've let him slide."

* * *

Finding her husband's office empty, Harriet grumbled, "Son of a bitch!" before she started checking doors in the office. Finally she found one that opened.

"Oh, hello, Helen."

Helen looked up from her desk. "Hi, Harriet. Iﾒm sorry, but Eric and the rest of the partners have left for the day."

"Do you know where they are?"

"Probably on the back nine by now."

"And they left you here."

"That's okay. I'm just finishing up a few details on the Fahnstalk asbestos case."

"Did you say, Fahnstalk case?"

"Oh, yes. I've been working on this one for weeks. Unless things go south, we should have a settlement in a day or two."

Harriet nodded. "Good luck, Helen."

Helen nodded. "I'll take every bit of luck I can get."

* * *

"Uh, oh," Eric said the moment he stepped into the kitchen and saw the look in Harriet's eyes. "I'm sorry to run so late, honey. I've been working on the Fahnstalk again. It really has been kicking my ass."

"I stopped by the office and ran into Helen Morgendorffer. It looks like the Fahnstalk case has been kicking her ass while you and the rest of the partners have been off playing golf."

"Honey..."

"Don't," she warned.

Eric stopped and sat on a stool next to the counter. "What are your demands?"

"You know that I believe in repaying debts."

"Yes."

"Follow me."

Eric sighed as he stood, but followed orders and went to the living room with Harriet. There, she picked up a remote and started a videotape that had been cued up on the player.

"What's this?" he asked.

"How you got home last Halloween," she curtly answered.

On the TV, they watched the recording of John driving Eric's car, with Eric asleep in the passenger seat, up the driveway and park. Moments later, Daria arrived in the old Plymouth and after a short conversation, she and John got back into their car and left.

Eric said, "Oh."

"Yeah, 'Oh.' And don't forget that they kept you from crashing through half the exhibits at the art museum a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh, yeah."

Harriet glared straight into Eric's eyes. "Those two have kept your drunken ass out of jail twice. Now, you're going to do something for them."

"Like what?" Eric said, cringing from his wife's anger.

"You're going to promote their mother to full partner."

"Partner?"

"Don't play games with me, Eric. Partner. I'm just as aware of what goes on in that law firm as you are and I know how much work Helen does for you. For instance, when I talked to her about the Fahnstalk case earlier today."

Eric winced.

Harriet continued, saying, "She's earned it, you owe it to her children and the whole lot of you partners could certainly use a woman's viewpoint when making decisions about the firm."

"It's going to be a tough sell."

"Do you know what else is going to be a tough sell if something doesn't happen soon?"

"Harriet..."

"Eric..."

Eric turned away. "Yes, dear."

* * *

John stumbled down to the kitchen and found Helen busily cooking and Daria and Jake already seated and eating breakfast. "Wow, what's the occasion?" he said.

"I thought I'd send you off on your last day of work with a good breakfast," Helen said.

Daria said, "You know, kind of a last meal."

Jake lowered his paper and said, "Shouldn't we order steak and lobster?"

Helen gave Daria a playful glare. "I blame you."

Daria shrugged.

Helen gave John a plate. "Here is yours."

"Um, thanks," John said.

After John sat down, Daria whispered, "I think her mothering instinct is kicking in again. After all, our next big step after this is the move to Boston next week."

"Ah."

Helen walked over. "I think you can be a little understanding of my feelings about my children leaving home."

John said, "Busted."

Jake said, "Who's leaving?"

In unison, Helen, Daria and John said, "Jake..."

Entering the kitchen, Quinn said, "What?"

* * *

"Yes, Mr. Vitale, I'll be right over," Helen said and hung up the phone.

At her desk, Marianne said, "Is there a problem?"

"None that I'm aware of." Helen stood, carefully straightened her suit and walked to the door. "Whether there is or not, I'm about to find out."

"Good luck, Helen," Marianne said.

Helen nodded and thought to her herself, _I'll need it._

Helen knocked and immediately heard a firm, deep voice. "Come in, Helen."

She entered and closed the door. "Yes, Mr. Vitale?"

Behind the heavy, ornate desk sat a large man wearing an impeccable, imported suit. "Have a seat, Helen," he said. When she was seated, Jim Vitale added, "And please, call me Jim."

Caught off-guard, Helen said, "Oh, yes, of course. Jim."

"Excellent."

"What can I do for you today?"

Jim said, "Nothing. Today is about what we are going to do for you."

"Me?"

"I need you to proof-read the firm's new letterhead."

Helen groaned inside at the simple task as she accepted the paper pushed across the desk. She looked down at the paper.

**Vitale, Davis, Horowitz, Riordan, Schrecter, Schrecter, Schrecter, and Morgendorffer.**

Helen started to feel faint as she reread the letterhead.

Jim smiled and said, "Congratulations."

"I'm speechless."

Jim pushed another piece of paper across the desk. "As per your hiring contract, you will receive the following increase in compensation, as well as all rights, privileges and responsibilities of a partner."

Helen sat still, but gave him a bare nod.

"We don't have another office for you, but a few upgrades to your current office will be in order."

Helen nodded again.

"Your first meeting with the partners will be Thursday." Jim smiled again. "It should be ﾖ interesting to have your input."

Helen finally said, "Thank you, Mr. - Jim. This really means a lot to me."

"You've earned it, Helen. In more ways than one."

* * *

In the Museum staff break room at the end of the day, Mr. Loudon said, "Daria, John, it has been a pleasure having you work here. If you're back in Lawndale next summer, give me a call."

"Thank, Mr. Loudon," John said. "It's always good to have a standing offer."

Daria said, "It's been a good experience working here. Surprisingly, considering who I live with, I've learned a lot about art this summer."

"I'm very happy to hear that," Mr. Loudon said. "And I hope you have a wonderful time in college. Have a good day."

Mr. Loudon left and John turned to Daria. "In the art world, having a standing offer of any kind is great."

"John, in the real world, having a standing offer is great," Daria said. "You do realize we're going to have to thank Tom for telling us about these jobs."

"I'm sure he'll accept our thanks with his usual grace and style."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

John and Daria laughed as they made their way to the employee exit. Once outside, they heard a voice that they were hoping to avoid. Mr. Vilano said, "I see you two are done."

John said, "Yes, sir. We spend the next week packing and then we head off to Boston."

"I know Mr. Loudon passed on the board's recommendation for you to return next year. I want you to know that I voted against it."

"It's good to know where we stand," Daria said. "As if we had any doubt."

John shook his head and said, "Come on," to Daria and walked away. "It's not worth it."

Catching up with John, Daria said, "It takes a lot of effort to hold a grudge like that."

"Some say that successful art should piss people off. Do you think that this counts as a good start?"

Daria glanced back at Mr. Vilano, still glaring at them. "I would call that a roaring start."

John opened Daria's car door. "Then I can call this a win."

* * *

As they neared home, Daria said, "Uh-oh. What is Mom doing home so early?"

"I would say that maybe she's home sick, but your mom's law firm only sends employees home on orders from the CDC."

John parked and they got out. "Are you as nervous as I am?" he said.

"Yes."

"Want to wait a few minutes?"

"Ordinarily, I'd say yes. But I really need to go."

"I'll distract her while you make a run upstairs."

Daria gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You are a brave man."

"I know I can run faster."

"And intelligent. I like that."

When they reached the door, John said, "Ready?"

"More than ready."

"Go."

John quickly stepped forward into the living room while Daria made a beeline for the stairs.

He called out, "Hello?"

Helen absolutely bounded out of the kitchen with joy. "John!"

"Helen?" John said, totally taken by surprise.

"Where's Daria?"

John pointed upstairs. "Bathroom."

"Go and tell her to hurry. Something wonderful happened."

Still feeling stunned, John said, "I'll relay the message."

Upstairs, he knocked on the bathroom door.

Daria answered, "What's going on?"

"I don't know, but your mother is - bouncy."

"Did you just say, bouncy?"

"Yes."

"My mother?"

John said, "Yes. She says that something wonderful happened."

"Jupiter was just turned into a star to support life on Europa?"

"I didn't see any monoliths hanging around."

"Tell her I'll be down in a minute. I can only work so fast."

"I'll wait. She scares me like this."

"So much for brave."

"I don't think I can outrun whatever she's got."

After a short wait, Daria emerged and said, "Let's get this out of the way. Whatever is inside of Mom needs to get out before she explodes."

"Agreed."

Helen was eagerly waiting for them. "There you are!"

Daria said, "Hi, Mom. What's up?"

"Wonderful news!"

"And that would be?"

"I've been promoted to full partner!"

Actually surprised, Daria said, "Really?"

"Yes! Jim, Mr. Vitale, told me himself just this afternoon."

"That is amazing, Mom. Honestly, I thought that they were stringing you along and would never offer you a partnership."

Helen said, "I was beginning to suspect the same thing."

John said, "So this came out of the blue?"

"I didn't think that the partners could keep this under their hats," Helen said. "But they did. I had no clue it was coming."

"I wonder what pushed them to finally make the offer," John said.

"At this point, I'm not asking. But I'm just as curious myself," Helen said.

John said, "Does this mean we're going to celebrate tonight?"

"Oh, yes we are," Helen said.

* * *

The setting sun bathed the boathouse in orange light as Tom and Quinn leaned on the railing to watch. She rested her head on his arm. "I wish summer didn't have to end."

Tom put his arm around her. "But it does, so we'll have to make the best of what's to come."

Quinn inwardly groaned, dreading what was coming.

"I know it's not going to be easy," Tom said.

Quinn closed her eyes.

"But Newtown really isn't that far away from Lawndale, only a few hours by train."

"Hmm?" Quinn said, confused.

"So I think we can make it work."

"Work?"

"Yeah, work. You know, the two of us. Our relationship?"

"You mean that you're not going to break up with me?" Quinn asked.

Somewhat surprised, Tom said, "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because you're going to be, oh, you knowﾅ"

Tom turned to face Quinn. "Like I said, it's not going to be easy, but you're worth the effort."

Quinn kissed him and said, "Don't mind me; I'm channeling the way I used to be."

Tom chuckled, "Damn, I guess that did sound like the introduction to a breakup. Mr. Foot in Mouth strikes again."

"You recovered. I think I've trained you rather well."

"Trained, huh?"

Quinn lifted an eyebrow.

"Trained, it is."

"And Tom?"

"Yes."

"You're worth the effort, too."

* * *

Trent scratched Damien's head while the black dog cleaned the pizza remains from a box. Across the living room of his small apartment, John and Daria shared a large beanbag chair. Trent said, "This college thing of yours really got me and the band thinking."

Amused, Daria said, "Trent, you know how dangerous that can be."

Trent laughed. "Always."

John said, "So, what brilliant plan have you guys come up with this time?"

"Do you remember Max's brother, Mark?"

John said, "Vaguely. He always seemed to be trying to sell something."

"Yeah, that's him," Trent replied.

"What's he trying to sell this time?"

"Nah, he's not trying to sell us anything. He's got a house in Mirage where we can stay."

Daria said, "Isn't Mirage that trendy new art/musician community?"

"Yeah. It's gonna be cool."

John said, "I assume that you're going to be able to find more paying gigs there."

"Oh, yeah."

"And Mark is just going to let you stay in his house?" John asked.

Trent said, "We've got to keep an eye on the place and, um, fix a few things."

"Hmm, fix a few things. I hope the place isn't a wreck."

Trent looked around his tiny apartment.

John said, "Oh, yeah. Scratch that."

Daria said, "What about Damien?"

Trent shrugged. "He's coming with us. Axl says he's not making much of guard dog."

Damien barked and Trent said, "He's excited."

"When are you leaving?" John said.

"End of the month when the lease runs out."

John said, "You don't have a lease; you pay month to month."

"Yeah, that. When what I've paid runs out."

"Don't act like our brother. Make sure I have a way to contact you."

Trent fished around in his pocket and pulled out an inexpensive cell phone. "I got this at Drugs 'N' Stuff. You, um, pay for it and it works."

Daria said, "A prepaid phone. Not a bad idea if you're moving. Make sure you keep minutes on it, okay?"

"Yeah, I will," Trent said. "I want to make sure I can talk to Johnny." Trent rolled the phone in his hand. "I'm gonna miss you, little brother."

"In your own way, you've been there for me," John said. "I'm going to miss you. I guess this means that the Lanes will have finally wandered away from Lawndale."

"Yeah, guess it does. Weird. Hey, what are you going to do with my old car?"

Daria said, "Mom's going to sell it and use the money to help Quinn buy a car."

"Neither of us can have cars on campus as freshmen and from what I can tell, you're better off not having a car in Boston."

Trent said, "I heard that they get a little crazy there. Good thinking."

Trent stood and helped the other two to their feet. "We've got a gig tonight and I need to go." He hugged John. "Drive careful, Johnny." Then, he hugged Daria. "Glad Johnny found you."

* * *

"Just a minute," Jake called out as he weaved his way through boxes and suitcases to reach the front door.

When he opened it, Vincent Lane stood outside and said, "Hello, Jake."

"Hey, Vincent! Come on in," Jake replied. "Be careful, the kids are getting ready to leave for Boston tomorrow."

"Are they around?"

"They should be back soon. They went to visit Trent."

Helen came over and said, "Hello, Vincent. How are you?"

"I'm well. I came here to wish John well and to thank you and Jake. You've done more for John in three years than I was able to do in fifteen."

"He's a fine young man," Helen said. "Despite what happened, you and Amanda gave him a good start."

"Only a start," Vincent said, "but we weren't there for the long run. You saved him. Thank you."

* * *

After Daria parked the car, John looked at the strange vehicle in the driveway. "Hmm, I wonder who that is?"

Daria said, "I hope Dad didn't invite another client home."

John winced. "Fish-flavored custard."

"The cats liked it," Daria said.

"I'm going to miss those two furballs."

"When we're sophomores, we'll find an apartment that allows pets."

"Sounds like a plan." John opened the door. "We're back."

Inside, Vincent, Jake and Helen were seated at the sofas. Vincent stood and said, "Hi, John."

"Dad," John said.

"I wanted to give you a proper sendoff before leaving for college," Vincent said.

"Wow, thanks."

"Helen was telling me that you and Daria spent the summer working at the Lawndale Art Museum."

"That's right."

"Boy, does that bring back memories."

Daria said, "Amanda said some things about the beginning of the museum and the one person there who gave us problems, Mr. Vilano."

"He's still there?"

John said, "What gives with him? Mom didn't seem to know."

Vincent sighed. "Amanda and I helped raise money to start the museum, including convincing several wealthy benefactors to contribute, like his parents. To be honest, they convinced everyone to elect him to the board of directors to give him something to do after his business failed."

Daria said, "So, he had no real art experience."

Vincent shook his head. "To the contrary, he was a classically trained painter. He produced some beautiful works when he was younger."

John said, "Then why the attitude toward modern art?"

"Your mother can be oblivious to some things. You know that she has always been partial to modern art. Well, Mr. Vilano developed a crush on her and she never noticed, despite his rather blatant efforts. When it was clear that she was pregnant with you, it left him bitter and angry. At the time, he convinced the board that we were a bad influence and so, we left. It sounds like he is still bitter."

Incredulous, Daria said, "She never noticed?"

John said, "I can believe it."

Daria said, "Weren't you angry?"

"At the time, yes. But now, if he has let this ruin his whole life, there's not much I can think of that I could do to him that would be worse than what he has done to himself."

John shook his head. "I can't be mad at him any more. That's just, sad."

Jake said, "Hey, why don't you tell him about BFAC and Raft?"

John turned and gave him a grateful nod of thanks.

* * *

With everything packed and ready to go downstairs, John's room looked and felt empty as he prepared for bed. Beyond a change of clothes and an overnight bag, the only things left in his room were those slated to stay behind. Or, stay behind until they could be moved to Boston.

John turned out the light and climbed into bed. Thinking back over the last three years, John looked around the moonlit room. _Things have really changed since that first day I saw Daria. And overall, I have to think that it has been a change for the better._

The door opening and closing caught his attention. "Daria?" he whispered.

"Sh," she whispered as she climbed into bed with him. "It's our last night here. I want to spend it together."

"What about your parents?"

"I'm certain that Mom saw me. She just smiled and closed the door to her room."

"We certainly have come a long way since you moved to town."

Daria snuggled against him. "We certainly have."

Holding her, John said, "I love you."

Daria whispered back, "I love you."

* * *

Grateful that Helen and Quinn had both discreetly avoided any mention of them staying together the night before, John and Daria sat on the sofa while Helen prepared a breakfast and Quinn did what she could to help. On the sofa with them were two tabby cats, one orange and one gray. Both purred as John and Daria petted them.

John said, "Okay, Zachary, Taylor. You guys need to behave while I'm gone. I'm going to be too far away to bail you out if you wear out your welcome around here."

Quinn came over and said, "Don't worry. I think Dad's gotten as attached to those two as you are, John."

"Yeah, but it never hurts to be careful."

Quinn reached over and scratched each cat's head. "I've gotten rather attached to them." Quinn then gave John a quick hug. "I've even grown attached to you. Brother."

"Brother?" John said.

"Yeah, brother. And no, I don't want to get into how weird it is that you and Dariaﾅ you know. Just, take it for what it is."

"I will. Thanks, Sis."

* * *

With a push, John closed the back hatch of Helen's SUV, sealing his and Daria's possessions inside. "That's it; we're ready to go."

Waiting with the rest of the family behind the car, Helen said, "We should get going. It's a six hour trip before we take into account pit stops and meal breaks."

Holding a travel mug, Jake said, "Do you want me to take the first leg?"

"I want you to get more coffee in you first. I'll take the first leg, then we will rotate through you, then Daria, John, Quinn and back to me."

"Okay, honey." Using a western accent, Jake said, "Load 'em up and move 'em out!"

Quinn looked in the back seat. "This is going to be crowded."

Helen said, "It will be more crowded in your father's car, and no, we are not taking both cars. We will survive."

Helen and Jake got into the front while Daria, John and Quinn squeezed into the back seat with Quinn in between. "Why do I have to sit in the middle?"

Daria said, "Because you're still the youngest and the skinniest."

"Fine."

Helen warned, "Girls."

Grinning, John waited until a moment after the car started to say, "Are we there yet?"

Helen looked into her rearview mirror at him. He shrugged and said, "Isn't it better to get that out of the way now?"

Helen said, "Is there anything else we need to get out of the way? No? Good, let's go."

Daria said, "It almost feels strange leaving. John?"

"Yeah," he said. John then watched the familiar red brick house as they drove away. As the car turned and the house fell out of sight, he whispered, "Goodbye, old friend."

* * *

Still awake from the previous night's performance, Trent sat on a park bench and watched the road, his acoustic guitar on his lap. Eventually, he saw the familiar red SUV on the street. Trent could already feel how much he was going to miss his little brother. He remembered a song he had learned years ago, strummed a few bars, and began to sing as the car drove past him.

_The long and winding road  
That leads to your door  
Will never disappear  
I've seen that road before  
It always leads me here  
Leads me to your door._

* * *

Lyrics to _The Long and Winding Road_ by John Lennon and Paul McCartney.  
Some dialog from _Is It College Yet?_ by Glen Eichler and Peggy Nicoll.

Thanks also to my long-time beta readers: Kristen Bealer, and Ipswichfan who found the numerous spelling errors, typos and other grammatical oddities in my writing and patiently read through many stories over the last seven years.

Thanks to everyone who has read and enjoyed these stories. I hope you have had as much fun reading as I have had writing them.

December 2011 - March 2012.


End file.
